


Blood Stained

by QueenVee1



Category: Captain America (Movies), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: All the swears, And a borrowed kidney, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Darcy Lewis, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Drama, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/F, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Humor, M/M, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, ShieldShock - Freeform, Slow Burn, Smut, Stucky - Freeform, Tony Stark Has A Heart, UST, WinterShieldShock - Freeform, WinterShock - Freeform, all the Avengers need therapy, framily, the slowest of burns, wintershield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2019-11-05 18:38:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 206,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17924189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVee1/pseuds/QueenVee1
Summary: With a war on the horizon, the Avengers mend bridges that had been burned, relationships are rebuilt, and new friends forged.After a chance encounter with Steve Rogers, Darcy Lewis figures she's had her fill of Avenger-related activities. Turns out she's more entrenched than she ever thought possible. When she forms an unlikely friendship with James "Bucky" Barnes, she thinks her life can't get any weirder.Spoiler alert:IT CAN!A (double!?!?) meet!cute and secret!sibling story! They said it couldn't be done.B**** YOU THOUGHT!





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> *closes large, impressive leather-bound tome while wearing velvet robe*  
> Oh, hello there, gentle reader. I'm your writer, V/Vee/Vicky.  
> If you're new to my writing: Welcome! Here be words! Lots of them!  
> If you're _not_ new: Did you do something different with your hair?  
> Because you are looking _fine AF!_  
>  Gird your loins, I'm sure you know what to expect.  
> This thing has taken on a life of its own. There are (so far) five different acts.  
> FIVE!  
> I mean, what the eff is even happening?  
> Crazy.  
> I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this one, but if this boat's going down, we might as well go down together! *shoots off flare*  
> I hope you pick up what I'm putting down, you dig?  
> <3<3<3  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a quiet village in Wakanda, Bucky Barnes is healing from the trauma Hydra wrought. Steve Rogers does what he can to help, but worries they have more obstacles ahead. In New York, Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster's work finds them returning Stateside.

_Come inside from the cold and rest your weary soul_  
_You belong, you are loved, you are wanted_  
_You're not alone_  
_I've missed you so_  
_Welcome home_

**Welcome Home - Joy Williams**

_September 2017_

“Come, much more for you to learn.” 

Bucky’s gaze focused on the small lake near where he’d spent the last two months, taking in the calm waters and the call of birds in the trees surrounding him. He could still hear the children behind them, their shouts and laughter ringing through the air. Pulling his eyes away, Bucky turned and followed Shuri, heading somewhere closer to the center of the little village. 

Pushing into the dark interior of another hut, this one larger than the one he’d been staying in, Bucky’s eyes adjusted quickly. When everything came into focus, his lips parted in surprise. “Steve.” 

Steve climbed to his feet, gaze pouring over Bucky, taking in the colorful scarves and clothing, the life in his cheeks, the dirt and dust covering his bare feet. It’d only been three weeks since the last time he’d seen Bucky, but that three week absence only highlighted the massive changes that had occured in his best friend. If his hair had been a bit shorter, Steve could have been looking at the Bucky he remembered from the streets of Brooklyn. There was less of a shine in his eyes, but the man in front of him was Bucky, _his_ Bucky, and Steve’s heart soared with hope. “Hey, Buck.” 

Bucky wanted to cross to Steve, to wrap the other man in his arms, but he didn’t move. He felt emotions rising in his chest but he stamped them down, not wanting to show any vulnerabilities. He’d only been out of cryo for two months, and despite what Shuri had assured him, Bucky still carried that fear in his throat. 

“If you are not embracing on my behalf, I promise I will not be offended.” 

Grey eyes slid toward Shuri, watching a corner of the teenager’s mouth lift up in a smirk as she looked back and forth between the two men. Bucky’s gaze was pulled back to Steve when his best friend took a small step toward him, moving slow, the expression on his face one of careful expectation. It took another moment before Bucky could make his feet move, the soft warm dirt under the balls of his feet carrying him forward. 

When Bucky’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, Steve let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, returning the hug with the same intensity. The three weeks he’d been gone, meeting with Sam and Natasha, planning out their next steps, had been like torture. Bucky being out of cryo had seemed like a win, but the first couple of weeks after he’d been out had been rough. 

They’d gotten through it, but having to leave so soon after meant Steve’s mind was never far from Wakanda and the man he’d left behind. Clapping Bucky on the shoulder, Steve pulled back enough that he could gaze in the grey eyes he’d known his whole life. “You look better.” 

“I feel better,” Bucky nodded, a smile lifting his lips. 

“He _is_ better,” Shuri said as she came closer, a tablet in her arms. When the two men turned toward her, their hands staying clasped between them, she displayed the information she’d brought with. “We were able to destroy the neural architecture that had been built and allowed others to manipulate you. We have verified these results in a multitude of ways. I promise you, Sergeant Barnes, you need not fear those words any longer.” 

Bucky felt Steve squeeze their joined hands with relief, but he still couldn’t bring himself to hope yet. He watched Shuri’s eyes, looking for any hint of doubt. There was none. When they’d arrived in Wakanda, when the teenage scientist had sworn to help him, he’d had no real confidence. Too tired. Too resigned. It wasn’t a lack of faith in Shuri’s abilities, it was _him_. Even when he’d been brought out, when Steve had said those words and there’d been no blackness as The Soldier took over, Bucky had still been filled with disbelief. 

He was a lost cause. 

He wasn’t safe. 

He wasn’t _him_. 

Slowly, bit by bit, Steve and Shuri had been able to pull him back toward the light. Since then, he’d had to claw himself from the wreckage of his own mind, scars of another kind holding him back. What they now called PTSD was once Shell Shock, and Bucky felt the battle fatigue in intimate detail; every creak of trees in the night woke him from his nightmares, every whisper like an enemy about to take a shot. 

He nodded at Shuri and gave her a smile when she told him that things would fade over time, that he should see someone to deal with his mental scars, but giving someone access to those horrible memories sounded like an impossibility. There were things he’d done that he would _never_ tell another soul, even the warm man at his side. “So what comes next?” 

Steve looked over at Bucky. The way his best friend had asked his question, with resignation and a bit of fear, had him squeezing Bucky’s hand again, giving him whatever comfort he could. 

“When you are ready, I would see no problem with you returning to _Birnin Zana_. It is where the Dora Milaje train. Okoye has agreed to work with you. I may have the knowledge to remove Hydra’s influences on your mind, but helping your body return to where it was? I fear that is outside of my expertise.” 

“Why train at all?” When Bucky looked over at him sharply, Steve turned toward his best friend, their hands slipping from each other’s. “You don’t have to fight anymore. There’s no reason -” 

Bucky could see something in Steve’s eyes, something foreign, and his lips formed a thin line as he tried to place his best friend’s expression and the vehemence in his voice. “Steve -” 

“No, Bucky, you don’t _have_ to do anything,” Steve said with a shake of his head. “You’ve had your choices taken from you for so long. If you don’t want to fight, you shouldn’t have to. There are enough of us -” 

“Soldiers always -” 

“We’re _not_ soldiers anymore.” 

When the two men went quiet, looking at each other, the air in the hut growing thick, Shuri nodded at them and slipped out the door. 

“You don’t stop being a soldier just because you lost a battle,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, his voice even as he watched the pique color Steve’s eyes. 

“We didn’t lose a battle, Buck. We lost the _war_.” 

Bucky watched Steve cross to a table that was in the corner and take a heavy seat, running a tired hand over his face and beard. The same protectiveness that had always sung in Bucky’s chest hit a crescendo, and like he’d done since they were kids, Bucky pushed his own worries and fears aside and turned his attention to Steve. He took the seat across from his best friend, resting his hand on the table, almost able to _feel_ the frustration in the other man, expecting to see it waver in the air around him like hot asphalt. “What happened?” 

Steve let out a hollow laugh, leaning back in his chair, feeling a heavy weight on his shoulders. He wasn’t sure how to say the words, feeling them get stuck in his throat, swallowing harshly around them. It was one thing to plan their immediate future with Natasha and Sam, figuring out where they went from here, but having to tell Bucky… It was harder than he thought it’d be. “I’m just tired.” 

“Steve.” 

Like it always had, Steve was able to make out an entire novel in just the way Bucky said his name. _Tell me what’s wrong. We’ll talk it out. I’ll help you._ Their shorthand had been honed over years, over _decades_ , and the fact that he got to experience it again had Steve’s chest tightening with unspoken words. He let out a breath. “We can’t go home.” 

_Home_. The word was enough to make Bucky smile. He knew that the word meant something different to Steve than it did to him. Steve still held the belief that one day they’d be able to return to Brooklyn, to walk the same streets they had as kids. Bucky knew that was impossible and had come to terms with that reality ages ago. To him, _home_ was the blond sitting across from him. “I never expected to.” 

“Ross declared us fugitives. Me. You. Sam. Natasha. Wanda. We’re to be detained on sight.” Steve let the breath pass his lips slowly, the tumble of emotions in his chest making his tongue feel heavy, like the rest of the words were too much weight for it to handle. 

Steve had begun feeling disenchanted with what now passed as patriotism in the U.S. for a while. The Accords and his refusal to sign them were born from that frustration, just another action that pointed toward tyranny and not democracy. What Ross and the rest of the government had begun would only lead to more illegal detainments, more freedoms being stolen piece by piece. 

His mother had come from Ireland, passing through Ellis Island, desperate for a better life. HIs father had fought and died in the Army during World War I. He’d been told, from an early age, that America was the best country on Earth and that he was lucky to live there. He’d wanted nothing more as a child than to make America proud. He’d done everything, _given_ everything, to protect his country. 

And now, for doing the right thing, he’d been exiled. He was a soldier without a country to call his own. Could someone still _be_ a soldier when the place he’d sworn to protect had stopped protecting him? 

“I can’t blame them for wanting to put me behind bars,” Bucky said after a quiet moment, watching Steve’s eyes flick up to him. Running his hand over the table, feeling the dips and grooves in the wood, Bucky took in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “Steve, the only reason you’re not allowed home is because of me.” 

“That’s not true,” Steve insisted, sitting up straighter in his chair. 

“If you hadn’t -” 

“James.” Saying the other man’s name had the desired effect, and Steve waited for Bucky. When Bucky’s eyes finally climbed to his, Steve reached out and took Bucky’s hand in his on the table. “Saving you was the only option for me, and saving you didn’t cost me anything I wasn’t willing to pay a hundred times over.” 

Bucky stared into Steve’s eyes, seeing no hint of apprehension in the other man’s gaze. After a moment, Bucky’s tongue darted out to lick his dry lips, eyes dropping to look at their clasped hands. 

“The current administration's views on the Accords go against everything we believed in. Fear of immigrants. Hubris when it comes to the rest of the world. Looking away as innocent children are killed by weapons we supplied our enemies when they were our allies, at least when they had resources we wanted. And now, because they don’t understand powers and abilities, they’re alienating people who might be their only source of protection. They’re terrified, and motivated, and it’s turning them into something ugly. Something dangerous.” 

“War has always been dangerous. Animals backed into corners lash out.” 

“They backed themselves into this corner, Buck.” 

“I’m not arguing with you, punk, just telling it like it is.” 

One corner of Steve’s mouth turned up at Bucky’s words, able to remember those exact words falling past his best friend’s lips time and time again. The nostalgia beat in his chest, fingers tightening around Bucky’s, and Steve did his best to rein in the anger he felt deep in his stomach. He’d seen the steady decline in America starting years ago, but after what happened with the Accords, he felt an impotence growing in his mind. 

“People still need help,” Steve said with a shake of his head, “and if those in power aren’t willing to help them, then someone else has to.” 

“And that someone is you and not me?” Bucky watched Steve blink at him, trying to gauge what the other man was thinking. “I enlisted right alongside you.” 

“Yes, and they were willing to let you die. I’m not.” 

“Steve -” 

“Bucky, I know what you’re going to say -” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“Bucky -” 

“ _Steve._.” Bucky pulled his hand from Steve’s and climbed to his feet, hearing the other man’s heavy sigh at the loss of contact. Turning his face away from Steve, not wanting his best friend to see the vulnerability on his face, Bucky’s shoulders fell, his right arm hanging limply at his side. “I don’t _want_ to fight. I’m _tired_. The thought of going back out there…” 

“Then _don’t_. Stay here.” 

Bucky let out a half-exasperated laugh, wishing he could cross his arms over his chest in disbelief when he turned back toward Steve. “Steve Rogers telling me to stay out of a fight might be the one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard.” 

Mouth slanting into a smirk, Steve stood, closing the distance between them. He laid a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, thumb rubbing against the soft fabric of the scarf he wore. “You said you’re tired. Stay here and get better. Get stronger. You should get the chance to decide what you want to do.” 

“I can’t let you go out there alone.”’ 

“I won’t be.” 

At the look on Steve’s face, Bucky realized what this visit was really about. “Nat?” 

“And Sam. Wanda and Vision. We can’t turn our backs on people that need help. We’ll do what we can.” 

“What if you get caught?” 

“We won’t.” 

“And I’m just supposed to stay here while you’re out there fighting? Twiddle my thumb?” 

“T’Challa’s already said he could find a place for you here. You know strategy, you’re great at training. You see holes in security better than anyone. Wakanda’s gonna need someone on their side now that they’re stepping into the spotlight.” 

Bucky sighed, seeing the resolve in Steve’s eyes, the honest belief that Bucky would be of use to T’Challa in his current state. He’d always felt affection at the unwavering loyalty Steve had shown him. Steve had gone against direct orders, time and time again, and Bucky knew, with every heartbeat since, that the only reason he’d been able to break out of Hydra’s programming was the love he felt for the man standing in front of him. Every doubt that Bucky carried within him had a matching opposite in Steve, and even though the thought of going back out there and fighting filled Bucky with ice as thick as the tundra, letting Steve go out there while he stayed behind felt incredibly wrong. 

“I don’t know how to stay still,” Bucky finally said, storm gaze flicking up toward Steve. 

“You’re not,” Steve said with what he hoped was an encouraging and soothing smile, “you’re just walking the path at a different pace.” 

Bucky couldn’t help the rueful smirk that turned his lips as he dipped his chin in Steve’s direction. “You believe the rubbish you’re spewing?” 

“When it comes to you? Absolutely.” Steve watched seriousness refill Bucky’s eyes the longer they stared at each other, a war of words fighting behind his lips. When it became clear that words wouldn’t do justice to the tumble of thoughts in his mind, Steve closed the distance between them, taking a deep breath in when he pressed his forehead to Bucky’s. 

Breathing him in, taking deep lungfuls of air, Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed. It was so easy to fall back into the relationship they’d had since they were children, so easy to remember when his entire life had revolved around the tiny blond spitfire who couldn’t say no to a scrap. Bucky felt the weight of the moment, the heaviness of words left unsaid, pressing down on them. “I want to be fighting beside you,” he whispered, feeling the burden of debt he still owed after wreaking havoc on the world for almost seventy years. 

“You’re _always_ beside me,” Steve said, swallowing hard, hearing his heart beating in his ears like a drum. He felt like a child again, remembering the first time he’d ever seen James Buchanan Barnes, playing ball in the streets lined by tenements. He was certain he’d never seen anything as beautiful, and when Bucky turned and smiled at him? He’d fallen before he’d even known what real love felt like. “I’d never leave you behind.” 

Still feeling the sting of shame, Bucky let his breath out, taking the warmth and comfort Steve was giving him readily. “You’ll come back? To me?” 

The question filled Steve with such light and hope that he couldn’t help the smile that shifted his lips, his heartbeat speeding, feeling the pound of it in his chest. “Always.” 

Bucky gave himself a split second of doubt before he pushed it aside, pressing his lips to Steve’s so softly, like he was afraid Steve was a mirage that would disappear at any second. It had been almost seven decades since the last time he’d done so, but like with everything when it came to Steve, it was too easy to fall back into what they’d had before. They’d both changed _so much_ , but if the one thing Bucky could always be certain of was Steve, it would be enough. 

As much as he didn’t want to, his body raging against his thoughts, Steve pulled back, waiting until Bucky’s eyes opened so he could search his best friend’s gaze for any hint of doubt. The last thing he wanted to do was derail the other man’s healing by jumping too far too fast. Though he was nearly desperate to show Bucky how much he’d been missed - like hunger, like thirst - he took another step back, hand trailing down Bucky’s right arm until he could thread their fingers together. 

Staring at Steve, seeing the genuine sparkle that colored his blue eyes, Bucky matched Steve’s smile with one of his own. “Hey Shuri?” 

The brilliant teenager popped her head through the doorway quickly enough that it was obvious she’d caught much of the conversation while waiting outside for them to finish. “Yes, Sargeant?” 

“We’re ready for the rundown on the rest of my rehab.” 

“Excellent.” 

_April 2017_

“ _Ugh_ ,” Darcy Lewis said with feeling, draping the pile of hang-up clothes over the well-worn sofa in the tiny apartment. She wiped the back of her hand over her brow, “honesty. You’re so tiny. How do you have this many clothes? A bandana would wrap around your body like a blanket.” 

Jane Foster frowned at her best friend and assistant, glancing over from her spot on the floor in front of the bookshelf. “That’s a bit of an overstatement. Besides, _because_ I’m this small it means I have to dress in layers.” 

Darcy gave her a considering look. “Kind of like an Italian greyhound.” 

Blinking, Jane shook her head. “Where do you come up with this stuff?” 

“The internet,” Darcy said with a shrug of her shoulders. The apartment they were moving into hadn’t been updated with any modern amenities, and while it wasn’t her ideal living conditions, she understood that they didn’t really have the funds to find something nicer. Jane’s new gig wasn’t long term, and finding someplace in Brooklyn that allowed you to rent by the _month_ had been hard to find. It was only for a few months, and for the time being, Darcy’d decided to make the best out of a frustrating situation. It wasn’t an altogether rough neighborhood, but her taser and the wooden baseball bat propped next to her bed made her feel marginally better. “You know, moving as often as we do would be easier if we didn’t have to ship all these books every time. Pretty sure they weigh more than I do.” 

“I’m a researcher, Darce. This is what we do.” 

Rolling her eyes, Darcy collapsed onto the couch, deciding a break was needed. “Yeah, yeah,” she hummed with a wave of her hand. “Well, I’m your assistant, and I’m saying that you could get these in PDF format and save my back.” 

Jane added another book to the shelf, organizing her collection chronologically instead of alphabetically. “Most of these pre-date computers, so there _aren’t_ any PDFs of them available.” 

“Which means they’re old, useless books.” 

The glare Jane shot her way only made Darcy grin. The astrophysicist rolled her eyes when she realized Darcy was just messing with her to get a reaction. It was one of her best friend’s favorite games. “Not useless. They still have gems hidden in them, but it’s stuff they only _dreamed_ about being able to test and trial. They’d die all over again if they saw how advanced the equipment is these days.” 

Darcy sighed, reaching for her half-empty bottle of iced coffee. “Yep, equipment that is _far_ to rich for our blood. I’m sorry we had to leave Switzerland.” 

It was Jane’s turn to shrug her shoulders. “I knew it would never be long term. Getting to stay at Cern for even a little bit was enough for me.” 

“It was so cold.” 

Jane laughed. “ _So_ cold.” 

“And as great as it was, I’m happy to be home.” When Jane glanced at her, Darcy gestured half-heartedly. “Home _ish_.” 

“Yeah. It’s been a bit.” Jane wasn’t complaining, as she went where the science led her, but she had to agree with Darcy. It always felt good to go somewhere you knew. 

“Years,” Darcy agreed with a nod. 

The astrophysicist frowned. “And it smells.” 

Darcy snorted some of her coffee, slapping at her chest. It wasn’t what she’d thought Jane would complain about, but she couldn’t really fault her at the same time. They’d gotten spoiled by living in places that were nearly fanatical about keeping clean and tidy, and America (specifically New York) was definitely not as concerned. “You’ll get used to it. Think about all the delivery options we have now! Chinese. Thai. Pizza. Oh god, we _have_ to go to Katz’s ASAP. I’ve been dreaming about their Knish for _months_.” 

Jane nodded, casting a look around the small apartment that would be their home until a new job had them moving again. Dining out might not happen as often as she’d like, considering how strapped they were for cash. “I’m sorry we couldn’t afford a bigger place.” 

“Hey, I get it,” Darcy said, her words softly dismissive, not liking the apologetic look in Jane’s eyes, “getting a speaking job -” 

“Engagement.” 

“- yeah, sure. Getting one of those at _NYU_ is a big deal. You’re going to rock it.” 

Wondering how Darcy could always remain positive, no matter what situation they found themselves in, never ceased to amaze Jane. “I’m sorry they can’t pay _you_ , too.” 

“Janey, it’s fine. I get it. Why would they pay for someone who never graduated college in the first place?” 

“But _I’m_ the reason you never graduated. If I hadn’t -” 

Darcy set her coffee on the table and leaned forward, eyes flashing dangerously in Jane’s direction. “Okay, get ready to catch some hands, because I am _done_ having this argument with you. I could have gone back at any point to finish, but your work is more important.” 

The frown remained on Jane’s face. “No more important than your _future_!” 

“ _You’re_ my future, okay?” When Jane’s eyebrows lifted toward her hairline, a grin slipped onto Darcy’s face. “In the best, most platonic way possible. You’re not my type.” 

Jane laughed, letting the happy feeling float in the air around them. As she watched Darcy climb to her feet, she tried to imagine what she would have done if she hadn’t had Darcy at her side, through all the ups and downs that had happened over the past few years. Her face sobered, the gravity of what their friendship meant heavy and happy on her shoulders. “I wouldn’t be able to do this without you, Darce. Really.” 

A grin lifted Darcy’s lips. Jane had never had a problem reassuring Darcy how important she was to the whole operation, and it was that reassurance that helped dull the ache of wishing she could help _more_ when it came to Jane’s work. “You just make sure the ramen and pop tarts are stocked, and I’ll try to make sense of your notes.” 

“We’ll find something better eventually.” 

“I know,” Darcy said, stretching her arms above her head, letting out a sigh when she heard several pops. “Until then, maybe I’ll find a part time gig while you’re out, just something to help us get by with the bills and what not.” 

“I talked to the landlord. He said he might be able to find something for you downstairs.” 

Darcy grimaced. “I didn’t like drunk college kids when I _was_ one. I’ll keep my eyes open. For now, how about you help me lug the rest of the boxes filled your _ridiculously heavy_ books up the stairs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people commented on the uplifting Author's Notes in one of my other stories, and knowing it meant so much, I couldn't _not_ continue it here.
> 
>  
> 
> The mirror is a fickle beast. There are days where I don't even want to look at myself. Too stark. Too tired. Too blah. It's hard, I know. I feel it, too. I'm sure there are plenty out there that understand.
> 
>  
> 
> _But..._
> 
>  
> 
> I wish you could see yourself like I see you. That glint in your gaze? The sparkle in your smile? It's breathtaking. Your soul shines so brightly I need to grab shades! You might not see it, but _I_ do, and its _gorgeous_.
> 
>  
> 
> Don't dim that light. Blast it out there for everyone to see! Let us bask in it! I wanna warm my face in the radiance of you!
> 
>  
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	2. Restart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve are visited by a Stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really hoping to update this thing every week, with a few breaks between acts.  
> Consistency always makes me comfortable, even though I like to go off book every once in a while.  
> Hopefully you have/had a good Monday! (Blech, Monday, I know. Blech.)
> 
>   
>    
> 

 

 

_Don't say it was a good thing_  
_Don't say it was the right thing to do_  
_Don't say it was the best thing for the both of us_  
_When I'm the one playing the fool_

**Restart - Sam Smith**

 

_May 2018_

“Bekah. _Bekah_!”

“She’s not going to listen to you.”

“Then she takes after her namesake,” Bucky said as he grabbed another bale of hay and tossed it into the goat pen. “She’s a bully, is what she is.”

Steve grinned, looking down at the piece of wood in his hands, fingers tightening around the knife as he curled off another piece. While Bucky was more than content to tend to the goats and various other animals that T’Challa had put under the ex-soldier’s care, Steve had found himself needing _something_ to do with his hands while he spent his days in their small corner of Wakanda.

When Bucky had suggested he carve them a chess board, Steve had reasoned it’d be much easier to buy one. His best friend had simply shrugged his shoulders and said ‘ _It’d be easier, but wouldn’t be worth as much._ ’ He couldn’t fault Bucky’s logic and had sat to the task. Little by little, he was building their board. It had started as something to do with his hands, but it’d quickly become a coping mechanism; having to hide away from home, being a fugitive, not being able to help where he knew he was needed… it was becoming harder and harder. He, Sam, and Natasha went where they could, but their hands were tied in some many ways, and Steve could feel the rope around his neck just as much.

He felt helpless in many regards, but being here with Bucky was as close to real happiness he could imagine. Spending time with his first love and best friend was like a balm, and his blue gaze tracked up in Bucky’s direction, a small smile on his face. Holding the rook toward the sun, Steve squinted one eye, judging whether the turret’s crown was level. His gaze slid to the treeline when he saw a flash of orange among the green.

Keeping the knife clutched in his hands, Steve jumped down from the fence post where he’d been sitting, seriousness bleeding into his posture, the small piece of wood hitting the grass. He caught Bucky’s eyes and watched as his best friend’s shoulders tightened. Bucky’s hand reached toward his back and the blade he always kept hidden there. They both stood there, watching as the orange light faded, tracking the movement of the trees for the threat just beyond their sight.

When Bucky had been pulled from cryo, everyone had assured him that Wakanda was the safest place for him to be. They were guarded, had been secure from the outside world for centuries, and claimed their force fields were impenetrable. Bucky had devoured science fiction novels his entire life, though, which meant he knew _nothing_ was impenetrable, and whatever was coming closer to them from the treeline was proof.

For a fraction of a second, Steve considered letting his knife fly, but hesitated. The wide spread of Wakandan technology still left him in awe, and he couldn’t be sure that the flash of orange, and whatever was advancing toward them, was friendly. When he saw a man clear the trees, wearing a red cape that reminded him of the one Thor sported, he let his knife and the hand that held it drop to his side.

Bucky could feel Steve’s guard fall, but he wasn’t as willing. He watched the man approach, his dark features and outfit unfamiliar. As he neared, Bucky took several large steps backward, moving closer to Steve. “Friend of yours?”

“Pretty sure I only know one person who wears a cape,” Steve answered, seeing the man wave his hand in their direction as he pushed through the tall weeds that ringed the lake. Steve came closer to the fence, putting a hand over Bucky’s at the small of his back, keeping the knife in its sheath. “Identify yourself!” The man held up his hands, showing them empty, and stopped around twenty-feet away, leaving space between them for comfort.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes. My name is Dr. Stephen Strange, and I need your help. It’s not hyperbole to say the fate of the universe hangs in the balance.” The silence that descended over the three men was thick, and was only broken up by the bleating of Bekah as she headbutted another goat to make claim to the foodbowl. Stephen took another step forward, but stopped with both hands held up in surrender when he saw the glint of silver in Steve’s hand. “I am not here to hurt you, I swear.”

“It’s not _us_ we’re worried about,” Bucky growled, thinking the man reminded him of the wizard in _The Wizard of Oz_. Cape. Distinctive facial hair. A penchant for the dramatic. Bucky glanced at Steve, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod before he started moving around the fence and toward the stranger.

Steve didn’t see any visible weapons on Strange, but he knew better than to assume that made him safe. He took careful steps closer to the man. “How did you find us?”

A small smile lifted Stephen’s lips at Rogers’ question. “Wakanda might be hard for many to find, but some of us are party to the knowledge.”

“Does _Wakanda_ know you know?”

“They’ll be here momentarily so you can ask them yourself.” When his words did nothing to clear the doubt and suspicion from Barnes’ eyes, Stephen turned his attention to Steve. “Captain Rogers, as I said, I’m Stephen Strange. I am the Sorcerer Supreme and protect the New York Sanctum. I need to speak with you about a vision I had.”

Steve did his best to hide his surprise. Of all the things he’d have guessed was the reason for the stanger’s visit, a _vision_ would not have been on his list. “Not sure I understood all that. You mind explaining?”

“Would you be more comfortable if we sat down?”

“No.” Bucky didn’t care that his answer had been rough, or that the man’s eyes flicked to him at the heaviness he’d put in the word.

“Very well. As Sorcerer Supreme, it falls within my purview to protect Earth from threats of a mystical origin. I had a vision which hinted at a war that is coming, and I believe we have no chance of weathering it unless we all work together.”

When nothing the man sounded close to a real explanation, Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “Pretty sure he told you to explain,” he growled, still looking at the man wearily.

Stephen let out a sigh, glancing down at the tall grass before his eyes looked back to the two men. “Long story short, I have magical abilities, and one of those abilities is to see possible futures. In one of my visions, I felt the world shift, as if something irreparable had torn it apart. I need your help if we’re to stave off the armageddon I witnessed.”

Again, another silence fell over the three men as Steve and Bucky digested what Strange was telling them. Leaving his knife sheathed at his back, Bucky gave the man a disbelieving look. “You’re a magician?”

“No.”

“You said you have magic powers. Last time I checked, that makes you a magician.”

Stephen sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Barnes. “I was using layman's terms. No magician can do what I can.”

“Prove it,” Bucky said, lifting a challenging eyebrow at Strange.

Looking toward Steve, seeing the same desire in the Captain’s eyes, Stephen _did _roll his eyes before he pointed toward the goat that had come to stand near them in the pen. With several quick motions of his hands, the goat disappeared entirely.__

__When Bucky lunged toward the caped man, Steve jumped forward, putting himself between Bucky and Strange, holding his best friend back. He knew Bucky had become increasingly attached to the goats, but the last thing they needed was for Bucky to be brought up on murder charges over a barnyard animal. He gave Strange a hard glare. “If I were you, I’d bring the goat back.”_ _

__Acquiescing, Strange brought the goat back from the mirror dimension. It was only after the animal had returned and let out an annoyed bugle that the other man seemed to calm down. “Okay,” Steve said, feeling Bucky settle at his back as he took a step closer to Stange, “so you’ve got powers. I still don’t understand. You’re saying you saw the world being decimated?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__Bucky frowned. “But you -”_ _

__“The word ‘decimate’ isn’t the correct term. To decimate is, essentially, to remove or destroy one tenth of a population. We are not looking at a tenth of the world, but _fifty_ percent. Maybe more. Billions of people will be lost unless we take action _now_ to stop it.” _ _

__Steve watched fear enter the man’s eyes for the first time since he’d arrived. It appeared Strange honestly believed the fate of the world was at stake. If what he said was true, if the fate of billions depended on helping him… “What do you need from me?”_ _

__“I need you to return to New York with me. We must speak with Tony Stark.”_ _

__At Tony’s name, Steve’s spine straightened and his jaw tightened. He hadn’t talked to the other man in months, not since he and Bucky had left him in that Siberian hydra facility, his armor broken and in pieces, blood coating his face. The chasm that had grown between them seemed impossible. “That’s easier said than done, doctor.”_ _

__“Why?”_ _

__“Because the last time we saw him we beat the hell out of each other,” Bucky rasped, watching Strange turn toward him with a raised eyebrow._ _

__Stephen’s lips pursed, annoyance bleeding into his stance. “I think some _petty squabbling_ can be put on hold when the whole of the universe is at stake.” _ _

__“It wasn’t just petty squabbling,” Steve said with a shake of his head, “we had… moral differences.”_ _

__“I don’t care.” When both men’s eyes lost a bit of their acceptance, Stephen took a step closer to them, ignoring the tension that filled Barnes’ body at the movement. “It is my job to protect this world. I was fairly certain it was your duties as well.”_ _

__“Not sure if you’ve heard, doc,” Bucky bit out, ”but we’re not soldiers anymore.”_ _

__“And if you really _believed_ that, I’d have gone elsewhere.” When Rogers and Barnes continued to just look at him, Stephen shook his head. “I understand that you might have some personal issues that have made you seek refuge on foreign soil, but if we don’t work together, there won’t _be_ refuge. For anyone. From what I’ve learned about you both, whether you’re wearing a uniform or not, you fight for people regardless of country borders. Am I wrong?” _ _

__Bucky’s jaw clenched, repeating Strange’s words and letting them take hold in his mind. He looked over at Steve, seeing the war raging behind his best friend’s eyes. Even if _he_ was sick of war, Steve had never been able to see injustice in the world and turn a blind eye. It was one of the things he loved most about the blond, despite his frustration at how _often_ Steve found himself in a scrap that he might not walk away from. When Steve glanced over at him, Bucky already knew the answer and put as much in his gaze. _ _

__Seeing the resignation in Bucky’s eyes, unsurprised his best friend knew what his decision would be without it being verbalized, Steve looked back at Strange. “I’m on several different Most Wanted lists. It’s not going to be easy to sneak me in,” he said with a sigh, feeling Bucky’s shoulders drop beside him._ _

__“I can assure you that won’t be a problem.”_ _

__“And Stark?” Bucky asked. “What about that problem?”_ _

__“I suppose we’ll deal with that when -” Strange stopped talking when the sound of a quickly approaching aircraft grew louder and louder. “See? What did I tell you? You can ask King T’Challa himself.”_ _

__“It’s not the _king_ you should be worried about,” Bucky said, unable to keep the smirk from his face. Despite being in the country for almost a year, the technology Wakanda possessed still impressed him. When the king’s general appeared from inside the craft, her favorite spear in hand and a fierce look on her face, Bucky turned his self-satisfied grin back to Strange. _ _

__“Captain, I was not informed you’d have a friend visiting you today.” Okoye’s words were soft but the threat and danger in her eyes was unmistakable. “If I recall correctly, you promised that no outsiders would be brought over our borders unless it was absolutely necessary.”_ _

“Okoye, I swear that this is the case.” Stephen watched the woman’s eyes widen softly, though the expression faded just as quickly as it’d come. “ _Kukhokho benu, ngegazi lika-Orisha, ndifungela uxolo lwam_.” 

__Okoye’s gaze stayed on Strange for several beats, and it was clear she was deciding what to do with the information the man had given her. Her hand lessened its grip on her spear and she gave Strange a quick nod before she moved back toward the aircraft she’d exited only minutes before._ _

__“What did you say to her?” Steve asked, an eyebrow raised._ _

__“The truth. Look, we haven’t got much time. This needs to happen now, Captain, or the threat grows larger and all hope will be lost.”_ _

__Steve looked at Strange for another moment before he nodded, turning toward Bucky, letting out a resigned sigh. He moved closer, reaching out to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder. “I have to go with him.”_ _

__“No, you don’t,” Bucky said, one corner of his mouth turning up, belying the knowledge that Steve had already made up his mind, “but you’re going to go anyway.”_ _

__“If what he says is true -”_ _

__“There’s always some war, some battle, some fight. Tale as old as time.” Bucky frowned when Steve’s thumb rubbed along his clavicle, the warmth of Steve’s skin against his doing little to calm the worry in his chest. “Last time you saw Stark -”_ _

__“I know, Buck. It won’t be easy.”_ _

__“Steven Rogers has never taken the easy way out. If you did, _that’s_ when I’d get concerned.” Letting himself feel something past the disbelief of the magician’s visit, Bucky focused on the fear and uneasiness that curled in his belly at the thought of Steve leaving with a stranger. “You’ll be safe?” _ _

__“When am I not?” The chuckle he drew from Bucky made Steve’s lips turn up. He let his hand trail down Bucky’s skin. Every time he left his best friend it felt like torture, and this time was no different. The months since Bucky’d been out of a cryo had been like bliss. Quiet nights by the fire, laughing and reminiscing. Filling the hut with little pieces of home. Returning to the way it’d been before Hydra, and Zola, and the train._ _

__Steve wasn’t sure when it’d happened, but he and Bucky had fallen right back into their lives together. The scars and trauma would never fade, but the man in front of him was worth any discomfort that could come with the awful memories they both carried. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Bucky’s, letting the breath in his lungs pass his lips slowly._ _

__Uncaring that there were still eyes on them, Bucky soaked up the heat Steve gave. He hated knowing Steve was going somewhere without him, as it did every time he left to meet Nat or Sam, but this was different. The last time they’d seen Tony Stark had not been pleasant, and Bucky knew for certain that it wasn’t going to be a friendly reunion. He wished he could keep that pain from Steve, as he always did, but he knew it was inevitable._ _

__“I love you, Buck,” Steve whispered before pressing his lips to Bucky’s. It felt like a slap in the face, but he broke the contact when he heard a shout of ‘ _hey_!’ from their right. Both their gazes swung to watch Strange grunt, grabbing the cloak around his shoulders and pulling hard, attempting to wrench it free from the goat who’d decided the fabric looked delicious. _ _

__Rolling his eyes at Bekah, Bucky moved closer, clicking his tongue and producing a handful of pellets from his pocket. The goat immediately let go of the cloak and started in Bucky’s direction. Keeping his eyes on Steve and Strange, he gave Steve a sharp nod, watching as his best friend made his way toward the sorcerer._ _

__As Steve crossed toward Strange, he watched the cloak flutter and wring itself out, several drops of goat saliva dropping free. His steps faltered, eyebrow lifting when the fabric seemed to settle around Strange’s shoulders on its own. “Is that normal?”_ _

__“Relatively,” Strange answered, knowing getting into the abilities of the cloak could last hours, and they didn’t have any hours to waste. He moved them further into the grass, putting enough space between them, Barnes, and the goats. “I can assume you’ve never traveled through dimensions before?”_ _

__A light chuckle broke free from Steve’s chest as he shook his head, a mystified look taking camp in his eyes. “Not that I recall.”_ _

__“Okay. I should warn you, if you’re prone to throwing up on roller coasters this might feel familiar.”_ _

__With thoughts of the coaster Bucky had forced him to ride at Coney Island so many years ago springing to mind, Steve watched Strange make a few motions with his hands before a portal of orange energy opened up in front of them, a modern living room appearing on the other end of the circle. Taking a deep breath, Steve followed Strange through the barrier, casting one last look over his shoulder at Bucky._ _

__As the portal collapsed into sparks before fading altogether, Bucky frowned. His eyes darkened when he looked down to see Bekah nibbling at his pocket, trying to get at the rest of the treats that were hidden. Giving her a rub on her head, Bucky moved away then headed back to where Okoye was waiting, wanting to know what the magician had said._ _

 

 

 

__**translated from Xhosa: _To your fathers, by the blood of Orisha, I swear by my peace.__ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's this little voice inside of us.  
> It can be a whisper, but sharp as the words cut likes knives.  
> It can be a scream, building in our throat and making it hard to breathe.  
> It can be hard, like gravel, as you feel your knees drug along rocks and scraping open.  
> It can be soft, a gentle hand guiding us, telling us everything will be okay.  
> The hardest part of this voice is that it sounds like us, every timbre, every vowel, every confession. We believe it when it tells us we're not good enough, that it's pointless to try, that we don't matter to the people we love as much as they matter to us.  
> But It's a lie. The voice isn't just _us_.  
> It's every insult that's been hurled our way.  
> It's every abuse we've suffered at the hand of someone we love.  
> It's every hateful, bigoted, unfair and unkind thing we've had to endure, trying to turn us dark. Trying to silence the strength we hold inside.  
> It's okay if that voice is all you can hear right now. Just know this: you're _stronger_ than it is. The clouds will clear and you'll be able to see every inch, every foot, every important milestone yet to come.  
> So break.  
> It's okay.  
> There are certain souls that are made stronger by breaking apart and being put back together again.


	3. Tell Me How

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen Strange makes good on his promise and brings Steve Rogers to meet with Tony Stark. It goes about as well as can be expected, all things given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a rough day (spent mostly in the ER with my sister, who's thankfully okay) and knowing I was coming home to post a new chapter kept me going.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
>   
>    
> 

 

 

_You keep me up with your silence_  
_Take me down with your quiet_  
_Of all the weapons you fight with_  
_Your silence is the most violent_

**Tell Me How - Paramore**

 

_May 2018_

"Boss, two thermal signatures just appeared in your private unit." 

Reminding himself that he needed to program Friday to _never_ say anything about his ‘private unit’ ever again, Tony’s hands never stopped typing on his keyboard. “Pepper home early?” 

“No,” was Friday’s response, “Ms. Potts’ plane isn’t due to arrive until ten.” 

“Then where’d they come from?" 

"Nowhere." 

Frowning, Tony spun in his chair and glared at the door to his lab, which lead to the suite he and his fiancé shared. He glanced to the left toward the bank of darkened windows and, with a wave of his arm, the glass went from tinted to clear, showing the New York City skyline as it bathed in the light of the morning. Sleep last night had been elusive, nervous energy curling and flipping in his stomach, never feeling right when Pepper wasn't at his side. With everything he had on his plate at the moment, he felt more off-kilter than he had in a long time, anxiety biting up and down his arms. "What do you mean, 'nowhere'? Through a window, in a helicopter?" 

"I quite literally mean nowhere. They weren't there, and now they are. Should I respond as if they're a threat?" 

A few clicks of his fingers and a gesture of his arm saved then cleared his work, and Tony rose to his feet, starting toward the door. " _Are_ they a threat? Who is it?" 

"Based on facial recognition, one of them is Doctor Stephen Strange, a retired neurosurgeon. The other is Steve Rogers." 

Tony stopped walking, body going still at Steve's name. It'd been over a year since the last time he'd seen Steve Rogers, or the rest of the group who'd been imprisoned on The Raft. He'd heard Barton and Scott Lang had taken the plea deals that had been offered to them. They’d been surprised that the DA had offered them leniency in the first place; a late night phone call had made sure they'd still be with their family. It was the least Tony could do. He'd been unable to accept the idea of them being separated from their children. 

General Ross hadn't looked too kindly on the district attorney's decision, but it was an election year and a fat 'anonymous' check being donated to the DA’s campaign had swayed him to look on the engineer and archer with compassion. It didn't clear their records, but the Accords had spelled out pretty clearly what the punishment was for those who ignored it. Mouth turning down in a frown, Tony looked at the door with uncertainty. Rogers appearing was not a good sign, and part of Tony couldn't help but remember the way Steve had looked down at him as his fists pounded on his chest over and over, until the light of his arc reactor broke then faded. He wanted to believe that Rogers wasn't there to finish the job, but he still faltered as he tried to imagine what could have happened to Rogers that required coming back to hostile soil. 

"What would you like me to do, boss?" 

Pulled from the turmoil in his head at the A.I.’s voice, Tony started moving again, slipping his glasses on. "Have countermeasures ready. Find out what you can about Strange and send it to me." 

As information began to appear in the lenses, Tony placed a hand on the door and took a deep breath in, eyes closing as he tried to stop his thundering heartbeat. He let the air out of his lungs slowly, steeling himself before he pushed through the door. His voice rang out loud and clear, his usual flippant tone in place. "Not sure how you managed to get past security on your way up, but you should know that authorities have already been informed of your arrival and will be here shortly." 

Steve turned at Tony’s voice, hands in the pockets of his jeans. When the other man’s brown gaze landed on him, Steve tried to keep the uncertainty from his eyes, but he’d never been good at hiding what he felt. It had been some time since he’d seen Tony, but Steve couldn’t help but think the other man looked nervous. It was understandable, both because of the last time they’d seen each other, but also because he and Strange had _literally_ invaded his home. 

Strange shook his head, unsurprised that the billionaire would take their arrival as a hostile action. "You might want to call that off, Stark. The last thing we need is police involvement." 

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Seems like breaking and entering my home is a pretty damn good reason to call the cops." 

"I assure you, it was out of necessity." 

Taking in the two men standing in the middle of his living room, Tony did his best to keep his emotions from his face. Something about the man with facial hair was familiar, but he couldn't place it just yet. The other man was _very_ familiar, but the tired look in his eyes was new; Tony watched Steve look at him, watching as the soldier took a deep breath in and then straightened his spine. Tony didn't analyze Steve's expression, realizing that as much as he thought he'd known Steve Rogers, the last time they'd seen each other had proved that what he _thought_ he knew about the other man was wrong. "Rogers." 

Steve watched Tony regard him, a cold look in the engineer's whiskey-colored gaze. "Tony." 

Turning his attention back toward the other man, Tony's arm jutted in his direction, a look of careful hesitation on his face. "What is this? How'd you get in here? _Why_ are you here?" 

Stephen took a step forward, more than willing to take the brunt of Tony's dull anger. He could practically feel Tony’s animosity, and he felt the cloak around his shoulders fluttered, like it was shaking off the sharpness in the engineer’s tone. "My name is -" 

"Stephen Strange, yeah, I know." The data streaming at the corners of his eyes was plentiful, and Tony took it all in, using it to steer the conversation. He left the two of them in the sunken part of the living room and crossed to the bar, grabbing a dark glass bottle. "Previous neurosurgeon. Car accident ruined your career. Fairly illustrious and well known before you disappeared from the public eye. Didn't I donate money to a charity of yours?" 

Unsurprised that Tony would know who he was, Stephen gave him a tight smile. "Once upon a time." 

The single-malt he poured himself was strong, and Tony tried not to think of it as necessary to steady his nerves and instead chose to view it at a strategy to appear calm. He was anything but, but he didn't want _them_ to know that. "I see you've taken a page out of Point Break's book. Not sure capes are in this year." He held an empty glass up toward Strange, who shook his head and declined the offer. 

He didn't extend the offer to Steve. Partly because he knew it would do nothing to the soldier, but mostly because Tony didn’t want to. 

"This isn't a cape, it's a cloak, and trust me, you don't want to make it angry." 

One of Tony's dark eyebrows raised. "Why? Because I wouldn't like it if it was angry?" He took a sip of his drink and rounded the bar, making a wide arc around the pair and staying closer to the windows. It made the room seem less suffocating. "How about you tell me why the hell you broke into my place and why I shouldn't have Friday put this whole place on lockdown until the cops get here." 

Hands dropping to his hands, Stephen somehow managed to stop from rolling his eyes. "Firstly, we wouldn’t still be here when the cops arrived. Secondly, the fate of the world is at stake." 

Tony stared at Strange, the drink in his hand pausing on the way to his mouth. After several seconds of him blinking in silence, Tony took a step toward Strange, face screwing up, unimpressed. "Oh, you thought I'd be surprised? News flash: the world is at stake _every day_. More so since Earth lost it's best defender." 

Steve's lips turned down at the corners. "They didn't lose you, Tony." 

"I wasn't talking about _me_ ," Tony said, dark eyes pointing a glare in Steve's direction. The blond gave him a slight nod of his head and went quiet. Turning his attention from Steve and toward Strange, Tony's expression didn't brighten. "The world. Stakes. Forget the foreplay and just get on with it, doc." 

Realizing how hard this was going to be, between the animosity from Stark and the quiet guilt Rogers was radiating, Strange steeled himself for the verbal battle that was to come. "I had a vision, and I saw -" 

Tony raised his hand, stopping Strange's words with a disbelieving look on his face. "A vision." 

"Yes." 

"You had a _vision_?" 

Strange sighed, putting both hands on his hips as he looked down at the carpet. "Yes. I had a vision." 

This man had broken into his home with a wanted fugitive, was wearing a cape, and was now telling him he'd had a _vision_. Tony knew the look on his face was unsatisfied. "And I should care about this _vision_ because..." 

Shaking his head, Strangle turned to look at Steve. "I see now why you fought with him." 

Steve shifted uneasily, "it was more complicated than that." 

"Was it?" Tony watched Steve look over at him sharply, a pained look crossing the blond's face. He'd expected feeling vindication when he saw the remorseful look in Steve's eyes, but all Tony felt was bereft. Like always. 

Stephen took a step forward, watching both Tony and Steve turn their attention to him. "Look, I don't care what stupid thing you two broke up over," he ignored the indignant huff of air Tony made at the turn of phrase and the annoyed expression Steve pointed at him, "all I know is that if we don't work _together_ , then we have absolutely no hope to win the war that is coming." 

Steve frowned at Strange's words. "What war?" 

Tony shook his head, finishing what was left in his glass before crossing back toward the bar. " _The_ war. The one _you_ wouldn't prepare for. The one Bruce and I _created_ Vision for. The one that began when the Chitauri destroyed half of Manhattan. _That_ war." 

"He's not wrong." Strange rolled his eyes when Tony lifted his empty glass at him in a salute before he filled it again. "There is a malevolent dictator on the war path and his end game is here, on this planet." 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, blue gaze flicking to watch Tony take another long drink before he started toward them again. "Who?" 

"Most know him as the _Mad Titan_. You'll know him best as the creature who gave Loki the scepter. His name is Thanos." At the mention, Strange could almost feel the air break with electricity, as if just uttering the creature's name was enough to make the universe pulse with fear. 

Leaning back against the bar, Tony let the air huff out of his lungs. He was finally able to put a name to the being that had haunted his nightmares for years, and he repeated the name over and over in his head. _Thanos. Thanos. Thanos. Thanos is the one. It’s always been him._ "What's he want?" 

"Among other things, he's after this." With a few gestures of his hands, the amulet around Strange's neck opened, exposing the green gem that was hidden inside. 

Tony blinked at the glowing stone. "He's after costume jewelry? If that's the case, I know the owner of the swarovski shop at Rockefeller and we can just -" 

"This isn't jewelry. This is an infinity stone. One of six. You've worked with one of them before. You used it to _create_ the Vision." 

Steve took a step closer, his expression sobering as the looked at the glowing emerald stone. "There was one in the tesseract." 

"Yes," Strange said, the green of the gem reflecting in his eyes as it floated in the air, "there are three of them on this planet. The others are spread throughout the universe, but we have the largest collection of them. And he's coming for them." 

"What happens when he gets all six?" 

Dark eyes flicked toward Tony, and Strange could see that the billionaire's face had lost its apathetic expression. It looked like he was finally taking the conversation seriously, but when the stakes were this high, it was nearly impossible to maintain anything other than terror. "If he gets all six, he'll be able to shift reality to look however he wants. Wiping out planets, killing billions, _nothing_ would be outside of the realm of possibilities. It wouldn't just be Earth, either. He's a scourge to the entire galaxy. He's already killed immeasurably and we're his next stop." 

Tony drummed his fingers against his glass, jaw tense as he absorbed the information Strange gave. He'd spent countless nights sweating, his heart hammering in his chest as he felt the cold hand of _someone_ wrapping around the organ and squeezing. It'd been a black figure, some unknown entity, but now that entity had a name. And a mission. "When's this happening?" 

"It's imminent." 

Rolling his eyes, Tony took a step closer. "Imminent isn't quantifiable, doc. Are we talking weeks? Months? _Years_?" 

For the first time since he'd gone to grab Rogers, Stephen felt the frustration at not having a better answer. "I'm not sure." 

Tongue clicking, Tony couldn't help the unimpressed look that took residence on his face. "Then how the hell -" 

"Look. It doesn't matter how _long_ it takes to happen, we need to start preparing _now_. I can't give you a timeline, but I _can_ tell you why we lost." 

"And that would be…?" 

Strange gestured vaguely between Tony and Steve. " _This_. This animosity between you two. Whatever beef you guys have got going needs to stop." 

A disbelieving grunt fell from Tony’s lips. He found it very hard to believe that the fate of the entire _galaxy_ hinged on him and Steve becoming friends again. He crossed his arms over his chest like Steve's were, eyes flicking away to look toward the bank of windows. "Easier said than done, doc." 

With a shake of his head, Stephen took a step closer to the two of them, able to feel the tension as it ramped up in the room. "You know, Barnes said the same thing, but I don't _care_. I don't care if your delicate feelings were hurt, or that you're no longer best friends. My sole worry, my _duty_ , is to protect this planet. If we work together? We survive. If we don't? Everything we know will cease to exist. So do what you need to do. Go to therapy, beat the hell out of each other, I really don't care, but _not_ working together is no longer an option." 

The conviction the man spoke with was captivating, and if he hadn't been in the grips of an internal struggle, Tony might have suggested Strange get a second job as a politician. As it was, he was left at a loss for words. He carried a heaviness on his shoulders, and part of that weight belonged to the soldier standing near him, whose expression hinted at a matching storm of uncertainty. 

Despite his darker view of Strange’s ‘vision’ and whether he believed it or not, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Steve’s. Like it always did when he pulled memories of Steve to the forefront of his thoughts, he had to ignore the initial stabs of hurt and betrayal, trying to focus deeper. He tried to remember parties at the tower, all of them eating and drinking and sharing stories. It was the closest he’d ever come to a family, and he felt their absences more than he would ever admit. 

Letting out a sigh, realizing his desire to have that closeness back outweighed his hurt, Tony shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels, looking down at the carpet. "You believe him?" 

Steve blinked at Tony's question, able to see the hesitance in the other man. He cast a quick glance at Strange, who gave him a raised eyebrow. Letting out a sigh, Steve lifted and dropped one of his shoulders. "I traveled here in a circle of orange sparks, so he wasn't lying about being a magician." 

"I'm not a mag..." Stephen said before rolling his eyes and gesturing with his hands in futility, "you know what? I don't care. Call me a magician, but I _am_ telling the truth." He waited for both men to look up at him with varied levels of acceptance. "What's it going to take to get this thing between you set right?" 

When Tony didn't speak, Steve uncrossed his arms. "It's going to be hard to work together when I can't enter the country." When he saw Tony shift, Steve's face lost some of it's uncertainty, giving him a suspicious look. "What?" 

Tony's teeth clacked together anxiously when Steve looked at him with expectation. "Yeah... about that..." 

Feeling a new flash of annoyance at Tony's semi-deflection of his question, Steve took a step closer to the engineer. "What did you do, Tony?" 

"Let's just say that the wheels of justice are already in motion." 

Strange's eyes narrowed at Tony. "What does _that_ mean?" 

With a sigh, feeling the same tension he'd been feeling for weeks tighten his shoulders, Tony's brown gaze flicked up to Steve's and held it. "It means that Rhodey and I have been digging for the past two years to find something on Ross, something that invalidates his version of the accords." 

" _His_ version?" 

A stab of anger flashed through Tony, and he did his best to stamp it down, but he knew it colored his expression and tone when he answered Steve. "Yeah. _His_ version. You'll enjoy this part because it involves your _friend_ ," he bit out, hands fisting in his pockets. 

He could see Steve's face flatten and the air in his lungs huff out. While he wanted to believe that the Accords played a lot into their schism, Tony knew it was much deeper than just a difference of politics. It was personal, and despite what he'd tried, Tony still wasn't able to see Barnes as a victim. He was left with nothing but impotent rage that Barnes' hands had been the one to murder his mother, and that Steve had hidden that fact from him. He could look back at his reaction and the fight in Siberia from every angle, but it was the _hurt_ that was the hardest to swallow. The hurt that someone he'd considered a friend had kept something so large, so important, from him in some pathetic version of mercy. Mercy for him, or for _Barnes_ , he wasn't sure. 

"Ross was working with Alexander Pierce." 

Steve's spine straightened at Tony's words and the meaning behind them. Pierce had nearly taken control of the government, the one who'd ordered Bucky to murder Nick Fury, the one who'd used him as a tool of Hydra, who'd put him in that chair over and over for the evil organization's cause. The repercussions of the two of them being connected was monumental. "What? How did you -" 

"I've been watching Ross for a while now. After the bullshit he'd done to Bruce, I wanted to make sure he was on the up and up. It was hidden, but I found it. It amazes me how people think they get away with stuff in this day and age. Anyway, my digging connected him to Pierce. He was the _second_ spear in Pierce's planned Hydra takeover. You foiled the helicarriers and his original plan, but when he was killed, they went with their contingency. The Accords. Just another power grab from the rot already inside the system. The paper trail was hard to piece together, but we made it work." 

Strange watched Rogers digest the information, his blue eyes busy as he worked out what Tony was explaining. "What are you saying, Stark?" 

"I'm _saying_ that in," Tony stopped and looked down at his watch, "thirty-three hours and seventeen minutes, documents will be provided to the president proving that the Accords weren't what they were touted to be and were, in fact, a terrorist agency trying to insert themselves in a position where they'd be able to use powered persons as an army to further their evil, _evil_ agenda." 

"They're going away?" 

Tony shot a glare in Strange's direction. "No. I still absolutely believe that there needs to be some kind of oversight, but I realize that the Accords ain't it. I've already got a meeting with the world council next week. I'm sponsoring a different kind of agreement. A treaty, of sorts. I have it on good authority that, when our treaty is ratified, charges issued under the Accords will be vacated." 

Whatever he and Rhodes had found on Ross had to be substantial, and Steve looked at Tony for a beat, watching as the smaller man avoided his eyes. He, Natasha, and Sam had been listening to any chatter, _any_ hint that the Accords were in jeopardy. The fact that Tony had been able to keep this under wraps meant he knew how important it was. It wasn't a stretch to say that the Accords being removed would change lives, would change _his_ life. 

"Stark -" 

Tony waved Strange's words off. "Don't get me wrong, there's going to be _something_ put in place, but for the time being, you and yours," he said, swinging his focus toward Steve, watching as his eyes widened softly, "will be able to return home." 

_Home._ Steve felt the weight of that word on his chest, the air in his lungs suddenly too heavy. He'd gone to war for this country, had been willing to die for it, and the past few years had been _incredibly_ hard on him. To say he'd become disillusioned would have been putting it mildly. Every day he'd spent away from America - the country his father had fought and died for, the country his mother had escaped to - was there in the way his hands felt empty without that shield. He wasn't naive enough to think returning would be easy, and he could see the struggles on the horizon, but what Tony and Rhodey had been doing in the shadows was... _everything._ "Tony, why didn't you -" 

"Did you mean it?" 

Steve frowned when Tony interrupted him, watching as the other man avoided looking directly at him. "Mean what?" 

"What you said. In your letter," Tony said, his eyes finally swinging up and holding Steve's, "about being here if I needed you." 

The question was important, and Steve made sure his honesty was clear on his face. "Absolutely." 

Tony nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "I might not have a good handle on how this whole 'family' thing goes. With my old man and all our issues, I don't really have a healthy comparison. It didn't help that a man I thought of as an uncle, a second father, sold me out to terrorists then tried to kill me," he ignored the surprise on Strange's face when the man looked over at him sharply, "but I'm under the assumption that even though families fight, they always come back. If what Mister Magic here says is true, we fall if we're divided." 

Steve could see that Tony wasn't done, something in the engineer's eyes speaking to more words to come. He'd known bits and pieces of what life had been like for Tony and the hands-off parenting style that Howard had adopted. Science and work had always been Howard's first love, and it appeared Tony had suffered for that ethic. Steve had assumed there was more to the story when it came to Tony's kidnapping and attempted murder, and finding it had been orchestrated by someone he considered family made Steve's chest tighten with empathy. 

Taking a deep breath, Tony's eyes flicked up to pin Steve, not reacting to the sympathy in the soldier's gaze. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty tired of carting around this chip on my shoulder. Could use another set of hands. What was it you said? 'The safest hands are our own'? Well, here's your chance to share the load." 

It was as close to an apology as he would get, and seeing the hesitance, careful and guarded, in Tony's eyes was all Steve needed. One of his eyebrows raised at the billionaire. "I thought you said you'd notified the authorities." 

A smirk slanted Tony's lips. "Yeah, well, I thought veiling the truth was better for everyone. Took that page out of your book," he couldn't help the small stab of satisfaction when a flash of guilt crossed Steve's face, "but I'm willing to erase the last chapter and start on act two if you are." 

When it seemed like some kind of agreement had been reached with the two men, Stephen's hands gestured through the air, giving them both a tight smile. "See? That wasn't so hard." 

Tony's gaze narrowed at the magician before they swept back to Steve. "Where did you _find_ this guy?" 

"He found me," Steve said, one corner of his mouth ticking upward, "and Bucky. In Wakanda." 

"Ah. Right. _Wakanda_ ," Tony said, making it clear he wasn't surprised. "You know, I should have guessed that." 

Steve chuckled softly, not sure why Tony wanted to pretend he hadn't known _exactly_ where he and Bucky had gone. It was becoming more and more obvious that though they weren't _speaking_ , he and Tony had never really left each other's orbit. "T'Challa said you reached out." 

Tony shrugged. "I like his sister. Smart as a whip." 

"She really is." 

"It's been a few years since I saw her in person, but we stay in touch." A short silence fell over the room, both Tony and Steve letting it hang as it became clear they'd built a bridge over the cracks of what was their friendship. A new journey, starting now. "So what comes next?" 

Steve considered Tony's question, placing both hands on his hips as one of his shoulders lifted and fell. "I guess we come home." 

Stephen turned to look at Steve. "And home is?" 

"Here." When Tony looked up from where he'd been smiling at the floor, eyebrows raising toward his hairline, Steve gave him a soft smile. "If you'll have us. Seems like it'd be a good idea to have everyone under the same roof again." 

Tony nodded, reaching up to scratch at the device on his chest, needing to do something with his hands, hiding their nervous shake. "Either a great idea or a horrible one. Guess we'll find out which." 

He knew it went without saying, but _something_ urged Steve on, wanting to make sure there was no more miscommunication between them. "If I'm staying here, then -" 

"Yeah. I know." Tony took a second, air huffing out before he glanced back up at Steve. "I don't like it." 

Steve sighed. "I know." 

"But _Siegfried-sans-Roy_ here seems to think we need all the manpower we can get. I'll keep my distance. I'd appreciate him doing the same." Tony honestly had no idea how it would feel to see Barnes again, and his jaw clenched at the idea, but this wasn't going to work if he held onto his rage at the other man. He could feel that anger, deep in his gut, replaying that video over and over in his head, but on the heels of that was the memory of Barnes' chin shaking when he'd been triggered, when those words had torn him to pieces and someone else had come out. It was hard to tell where his futile anger at Barnes stopped, and the feeling of betrayal at Steve began, but he could feel it festering inside of him, rotting him from the inside out. 

Watching a flurry of emotions flash behind Tony's eyes, Steve took a step toward the other man. "Tony -" 

"Let's just not, okay?" It would take time for Tony to be able to talk about the turmoil he felt inside, and it was quite possible he'd _never_ be able to be near Barnes and _not_ feel that ache, but he wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet. "Give it a week. Your name will be cleared, and we can start working to building something better than before. Something stronger." When Steve nodded at him and gave him a smile, Tony left his lips twitch in response. 

Strange crossed his arms over his chest, giving Stark a surprised and impressed eyebrow raise. "Being engaged to Ms. Potts seems to be helping your overall demeanor." 

Chin dipping, Tony turned his glare from Strange toward Steve. "Seriously, Rogers? You let David Copperfield _bamf_ you through time and space?" 

"Not time," Steve said with a small smile and a shake of his head. "just space." 

"Right. You've probably had enough of the whole 'time traveling' thing by now." 

Steve let out a small laugh. "You're not wrong." 

Feeling what tasted suspiciously like hope, Tony waved his arm through the air and crossed back toward the bar. "Thor might have the original, but I'm about to bring the _hammer_ down on Ross. You should prepare, get your stuff in order. Tell the others." 

When it seemed everything had been decided, Strange took a step toward Steve. "I'll take you back to Wakanda in a few moments." When Steve nodded, Strange turned his attention to Tony. "Stark, a word?" 

As the other men moved out of earshot, Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets, making his way closer to the bank of windows. The morning sun lit the building with orange light, and Steve watched as people darted back and forth below. The yellow of taxis, no doubt laying on their horns, seemed almost peaceful as they weaved in and out of traffic. His mind flashed back to the rubble that'd been left after the Chitauri attack, the first time he'd really felt like he had a _team_ behind him since coming out of the ice. The possibility that he'd get to experience that completeness once again filled him with hope. He knew things were hard, that there'd be challenges they'd have to face head on, but for the moment, things felt better than they had in awhile. 

Tony poured himself another glass of scotch, this one in pseudo-celebration, and watched as Steve surveyed the city streets below them. When the cloaked sorcerer came closer, Tony gave him a unimpressed expression. "I've gotta tell you, doc, this ‘vision’ you talk about is pretty vague. If you really saw what you saw -" 

"I did." 

"- then it's going to be bad. Even _if_ the band's back together. I don't know how you -" 

"You should reach out to Jane Foster." 

Tony blinked at Strange, the drink in his hand momentarily forgotten. "I know that name. Why do I know that name?" 

"She's an astrophysicist," Stephen explained, "she worked with Erik Selvig." 

Recognition crossed Tony's face, his jaw dropping softly before he recovered. " _Ahhh_ , that's right. She's Thor's... scientist." 

"Her work involves Einstein/Rosen bridges, which are - 

"Wormholes, yeah, I'm aware. I'm not sure -" 

"She might hold the key to defeating Thanos." 

"Why?" 

"I don't know." 

"If you saw -" 

"I don't know everything." 

"You sure act like it." 

"It's called confidence." 

"It's called bullshit." 

Stephen's eyes narrowed. "You know, I'm starting to understand why Rogers and Barnes beat the hell out of you." 

Tony stared at Stephen. There was something familiar about the other man, some personality traits that Tony was able to recognize. Mostly because what he found annoying in the magician's demeanor was almost an exact match for his own tendencies. Deciding that he couldn't really be angry at the other man for the same faults he carried, his lips slanted into a smirk. "So, Jane Foster. I'll talk to Bruce, see what he thinks." 

When Tony drained what was left in his glass, Strange nodded and headed back toward Rogers. "Good. I'll be in touch." 

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh? You gonna give me your cell number? Or can I just expect you to pop into my bedroom? The cafe downstairs? Maybe my shower?" 

Turning toward the two men, Steve gave Tony an expectant eyebrow. "You still have that phone I sent you?" 

Tony blinked. "I'm sure it's around here somewhere." 

He watched as Strange's hands gestured in an intricate way, his dark eyes widening when a circle of orange sparks appeared out of nowhere. Friday really _hadn't_ been kidding about them appearing out of thin air. Steve gave him a short nod before he and the sorcerer stepped through the circle, which collapsed and disappeared seconds later. When the quiet returned to his space, Tony stood there, collecting this thoughts. When he'd woken up that morning, seeing Steve Rogers had been the last thing on his mind. His entire focus had been on Ross and their plan to take him down. He and Rhodey had been working for _months_ , making sure their case was airtight and irrefutable. He knew, eventually, he'd have to meet with Steve, considering he'd be free to return home in a week's time, but it appeared that part of the timeline had been moved up. 

Setting his empty glass down, Tony's hand reached into his pocket, fingers wrapping around the ancient flip-phone that Steve had sent him. He'd kept it on him at all times. Just in case. In case he was needed. In case _Steve_ was needed. He tossed the phone into the air once then caught it, a smirk climbing onto his lips. "Friday?" 

"Yeah, Boss?" 

"Institute the _System Reboot_ protocol." 

"All configurations?" 

"Yeah. I'll be adding a few people soon. I'll restore when it's done." 

"It’ll be done. Also, Ms. Potts' plane landed safely and she's on her way home." 

"Perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the hardest things in the world is realizing that the person that used to be your rock, the one that you could rely on for _anything_ , isn't that person any longer. Whether through conflict, or differing stances on important ideals, it is heartbreaking to know something has wedged itself between you and your other half.
> 
> It hurts. So bad. But growth hurts. People move in and through your life, some for good, some for bad, and you can ache for them in ways you never thought possible. 
> 
> Hurt fades, but scars remain. You'll survive, because you're a fighter. Someone else will see your light and value it just as much as you do, and when they come around, be ready. Romances don't have to be about finding a significant other. You can be just as in love with a friend, or an idea, or a place. 
> 
> Don't close yourself off from the pain. The salt in your wounds will burn, but it's that agony that proves you're alive. 
> 
> <3 
> 
> _I can't call you a stranger_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _But I can't call you_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _I know you think that I erased you_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _You may hate me but I can't hate you_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _And I won't replace you_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Tell me how to feel about you now_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Oh, let me know_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Do I suffocate or let go?_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Think I'm tired of getting over it_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Just starting something new again_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _I'm getting sick of the beginnings_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _And always coming to your defenses_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _I guess it's good to get it off my chest_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _I guess I can't believe I haven't yet_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _You know I got my own convictions_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _And they're stronger than any addiction_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _But no one's winning_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Tell me how to feel about you now_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Oh, let me know_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Do I suffocate or let go?_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _You keep me up with your silence_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Take me down with your quiet_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Of all the weapons you fight with_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Your silence is the most violent_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _You don't have to tell me_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _If you ever think of me_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _I know you say you're busy_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Wildly, in the fog of your memory_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _You don't have to tell me, I can still believe_
> 
>   
> 


	4. Don't Let Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months later, Steve and Bucky return to home soil. Pepper shows them around the new and improved Avengers Tower and inform them of their new positions. Natasha helps Steve with some advice. Tony and Bucky are surprised to find themselves having a conversation that doesn't include violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooooboy, all you lovely readers, you really know how to make a girl feel appreciated!  
> Thank you all so much for the kind words you've been shooting my way! I'm so glad you like everything so far.  
> We're finally on home terf, and let me tell you, getting to play in Avengers Tower like it's 2012 again? LOVING IT!  
> Act I really does a lot of jumping around (it's called 'Heavy Exposition!!!' in my outline), so there are a few time jumps in the next couple chapters.  
> The build up is sweet _and_ bitter!  
> <3
> 
>   
>    
> 

  
_Running out of time_  
_I really thought you were on my side_  
_But now there's nobody by my side_  
_I need you, I need you, I need you right now_  
_Yeah, I need you right now_  
_So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down_  
_I think I'm losing my mind now_  
_It's in my head, darling I hope_  
_That you'll be here, when I need you the most_  
_So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down_  


**Don't Let Me Down - Joy Williams**

_July 2018_

Bucky gazed up at the monstrous sea of metal and glass that was 200 Park Avenue, a frown on his face. He could feel people walking by them and felt an itch between his shoulder blades as they looked his direction. The beard and hat he wore meant most people would glance and see nothing before turning away. There were times, though, that gazes lingered, when they tried to place _where_ they knew him from. 

It was most likely from the papers, the ones that his face had been splashed across, calling him a killer and an assassin, a global terrorist that could be tied to Alexander Pierce and Hydra. 

Stark had done what he’d told Steve he could; after weeks of closed door testimony - where he’d recounted the brain washing and control, where he held no details back, giving his entire horrible, blood-covered history - it had resulted in a unanimous vote stating that he was to be cleared of any charges for crimes he’d committed under Hydra’s control. _As long_ as he’d sign the New Accords, of course, with the understanding that if he so much as put a toe out of line, he’d face a much harsher sentence than just jail time. 

Looking over at Steve, able to recognize the same tension tightening his best friend’s shoulders, too, Bucky knocked his arm into the other man, watching those blue eyes swinging to look at him. “It’s big.” 

Steve gave Bucky a soft smile, reaching up to scratch at his beard, nodding his head. “Yeah.” 

“Why’s it so big?” 

“Tony’s always been a bit... ostentatious,” Steve said, as if it was explanation enough. “This place could function on its own as a city. It’s electrical grid is completely self-sustaining, it even gives extra energy back to the city, which is given to help those who can’t afford it on their own.” When he looked back at Bucky, he caught the eyebrow that was being directed at him. “What? I remember Tony talking about it. I actually listen when people talk.” 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky squinted against the sun and glanced back up at the structure. “Something this big has a lot of vulnerable points.” 

“Then it’s a good thing he has someone who’s ace at finding those chinks and fixing them.” When Bucky snorted softy, a grin lifted Steve’s lips. 

The last two months had been a whirlwind of meetings, testimonies, and signatures. It had seemed like they’d _never_ get past all the politics and publicity. Once Tony’s New Accords had been accepted by the World Council and were conditionally ratified, things had moved quickly, just like the engineer said they would. Things were still rocky, some factions of the government still arguing that their conditional pardons were unjust, but nevertheless, they’d been allowed to return home. 

Steve could feel it all on his shoulders, though. Every heavy glare. Each weighted insult. He’d left a fugitive and returned a reluctant soldier. He did his best to carry it where no one could see, but he knew Bucky could tell. Just like Bucky could _always_ tell. 

When a head of strawberry blonde hair began to make its way over to them, snaking through the crowd, a genuine smile brightened Steve’s face. “Pepper,” he greeted, reaching out to pull her close so he could press his lips to her cheek. 

Pepper’s smile was warm when she pulled back. “Steve. It’s been a while.” 

Steve nodded, reaching up to scratch at his chin, trying to remember the last time he’d been in the CEO’s company. Coming up blank, his hand fell back to his side. “Things have been a bit… hectic.” 

“That’s a little of a understatement,” Pepper argued with a soft laugh. Her blue eyes flicked toward the man at Steve’s right and she held her hand out toward Bucky. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sergeant Barnes. I’m Pepper Potts.” 

Bucky waited for the coolness to bleed into her eyes, for the anger to turn them into something darker. Despite what Steve had told him, about how warm and inviting Pepper had always been to him, the last time he’d seen her fiance had been a bit tense. It would make perfect sense if she hated him, too, and she’d have every right. _They all have every right._ “Nice to meet you, too.” 

When Steve watched uncertainty tint Bucky’s storm gaze, he took Pepper’s attention on himself, giving his best friend a reprieve from having to speak when he wasn’t ready. “I hear _Stark Industries_ is thriving under your leadership.” 

Pepper hummed, her lips quirking up in a smile. “Someone’s got to foot the bill for all the new employees,” she said, eyes sparking, “which, as of today, now includes both of you.” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, confusion in his tone. “What do you mean?” 

Pepper shifted her planner from one arm to the other, nodding them closer toward the building. “Well, it’s like you told Tony: _the safest hands are our own_. So, in order to _keep_ that control, you’ve all been hired by _Stark Industries_ as contract labor. You’ll get a conditional paycheck, and your room and board in the tower will be paid for. As _SI_ employees, you’ll be contracted out to the World Council when needed, but should anything go wrong, the onus will fall on us as a business, and not on you.” 

Surprise rocketed through Steve, sure that it colored his expression. It was an elegant solution to an inelegant problem, and he had to wonder why something so obvious hadn’t been proposed in the first place. _Because we didn’t get the chance._ He knew now that the original Accords had been meant as a leash, or a noose, but if they’d just had a seat the table from the beginning, things could have turned out so differently. “That’s…” 

“Yeah,” Pepper said, a small grin on her lips at the surprise that’d taken residence on Steve’s face, “it’s meant to be. Now, I’ve got the next few hours free. Care for a tour?” 

It took over an hour for Pepper to show them most of the tower, hitting all of the highlights. _Stark Industries_ owned the first seventy-eight floors, with the Avengers headquarters and living quarters on the other fifteen. While the business worked and functioned below - including Stark research and development, human resources, and their philanthropic foundation - Bucky’s security expertise would be focused on the top floors. 

When they entered one of the elevators, Pepper glanced up at a small camera and the car began going up. “The elevators work with facial recognition, but you’ll still need badges to enter certain secure rooms. I’ve already loaded the blueprints and security systems into the computer in your rooms.” 

“Room.” When Pepper did nothing but quirk one eyebrow, Steve shifted. He’d hoped this wasn’t something that would need to be mentioned, but he wasn’t sure what Tony’d had planned for their living situation. The last thing Steve wanted was to be separated from Bucky, especially as Steve knew keeping things as familiar as possible would help Bucky’s healing. “Bucky and I -” 

“Will share the same living space. You’ve got two bedrooms with attached bathrooms, but you’ll share a communal kitchen, as well as a living room and dining room. How and where you choose to sleep it up to you.” When Steve nodded, the tension that had bunched his shoulders fading at her words, Pepper continued. “You’ll use this private elevator to the upper levels, floors which are only accessible to a select few. As of right now, only Bruce and Tony can access the private elevator from the _Stark Industries_ floors two through nine.” 

“Because they do actual work on those levels?” 

“Means they’ll know exactly who’s coming up,” Bucky said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If the rest of us have to come up from the first ten floors, it means they’ll have time to use counter measures before the car arrives at the top levels.” 

Pepper’s grin grew at Bucky’s words. “Exactly. They’ve done their best to keep the upper levels secure, and Friday helps a lot. If they’re in this elevator, it mean they belong here. The more dangerous and proprietary labs are up top with your rooms. As of right now, you’ve been granted security clearance for all levels, and the head of security is waiting for a meeting with you both to go over any holes you might find. I should warn you, though, that Happy takes his job very seriously. You can take a look through our personnel files for any red flags, and you’ll be consulted on any new hires that are strictly Avenger related. Tony’s got a few projects he’s keeping need-to-know, and if you think you need to know, you can take it up with him. 

Steve nodded, watching a sense of purpose and a mission fill Bucky’s eyes. The fact that Tony was trusting them with his safety, and the safety of the rest of the team, was like an olive branch. He’d asked not to have direct contact with Bucky, as far as it could be helped, but letting him oversee such an important job meant more to Steve than anything else. “It’s a lot of square footage.” 

“It is,” Pepper agreed, exiting the elevator when it stopped on floor eighty-five. 

“And a target.” When Pepper looked over at him sharply, Bucky’s jaw tensed. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but it was an idea that had been at the back of his mind the entire tour. There were so many people who worked in the building, with no direct Avenger contact, but having them all under the same roof put hundreds or thousands of innocent lives in danger. If someone attacked the tower, it wouldn’t just be the team getting hurt. 

“Which is why Tony and I are happy you’re here.” Pepper could tell Barnes didn’t really believe her words, but she continued anyway, heels clicking on the tiles. “I know things have been rocky, and I can’t imagine what you’ve all been dealing with, but having you here is good. It’s better. _He’s_ better.” 

“I’m not sure any of that has to do with us,” Steve said, a corner of his mouth lifting slightly as her steps slowed, “I’m pretty sure that’s to your credit. Congratulations, by the way. I’m happy you two seemed to have worked things out.” 

Pepper’s eyes warmed and she nodded in Steve’s direction. “Thank you. And that thought segues nicely into my next topic.” She came to a stop outside of a door, hugging her leather-bound planner to her chest. “I know what happened in Siberia.” 

Stomach dropping, Bucky did his best not to shift under her gaze as it flicked from him, to Steve, then back. 

“I have my own guilt for the things that happened, and that I wasn’t there for him. Regardless, you should know how much he hurt, and I’m not talking about the bruises or broken bones.” When Steve opened his mouth, Pepper held up a hand, silencing him. “Please, let me finish.” 

She waited until both Steve and Bucky were quiet and listening before she began again. “We’re family, all of us, however dysfunctional. Family is important, and having you here, having you at his back during a fight, settles worries I carry. I’m grateful. Truly. He doesn’t need anyone to fight his battles for him, seeing how he has no problem creating battles on his own, and I would never dream of threatening either of you in any way. It’d be absurd. However, should you ever hurt him like _that_ again.... well, I'm sure you understand why I say this, and for both of our sakes, I hope we never have to mention it again.” 

Pepper waited for her words to reflect in their eyes before she reached out and squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Steve,” she glanced over at Bucky, “and you, too. We’ve got a lot of work to do. This is your suite. After you get settled in, just call out to Friday and she’ll let Happy know you’re ready. It was good seeing you both.” 

Steve nodded, smiling as her hand trailed down his arm and she passed them, heading back toward the elevator. Both men waited until she’d disappeared from sight before they let the air out of their lungs. Shoulders sagging softly, Steve’s gaze swung toward Bucky, seeing an appropriate amount of dread in his best friend’s eyes. 

“She’s...” Bucky hummed, grey gaze flicking toward the man at his side. 

“Yeah,” Steve said with a smile, “yeah she is.” 

“But she’d have to be, right?” 

The fact that Bucky understood made Steve’s eyes soften, and he reached out to grip Bucky’s shoulder with his hand, thumb brushing over the skin of Bucky’s collarbone. “Well, pal, what do you say we move in?” 

Bucky lifted his arm, closing his fingers around Steve’s bicep and squeezing. “Everything I need is right here.” 

_October 2018_

Steve stumbled backward, a well-placed foot catching him in the sternum. When an elbow angled toward his head, he lifted his arm, blocking the blow and countering with his knee. His opponent fell to the mat but was up just as quickly, the onslaught frantic and relentless. He tried his best to anticipate the next fist but was surprised when his size was used against him.

When a knee crashed into his lower back, sending him to the mat, he left out a grunt, grimacing as his arm was lifted up and backward, pressed between his shoulder blades as the limb was pulled almost to the point of dislocation. He let out a sigh, his other hand tapping the mat below him twice. When he was released, Steve brought his arm up and over his head in a stretch, muscles twinging before they settled down. 

“You were holding back.”

He shook his head. “No I wasn’t.”

“I’m not going to break, Steve. I don’t hold back from you.”

“Trust me, Nat, I’m aware.” When Natasha smirked at him, Steve climbed to his feet, taking a deep breath in then letting it out slowly. He slowed the beating of his heart, walking to where his towel and water bottle were placed at the edge of the mat. “Had a fight with Barton? Using me to take out your aggression?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Natasha rasped, gracefully sitting on the mat and stretching out one of her legs, pressing her cheek to her knee. She raised a delicate eyebrow at him, “trouble with Barnes?”

In the months since he and Bucky had moved into the tower, their days had been spent working with Happy, shoring up security holes and giving suggestions on new employees. The first time the team had been called for humanitarian help - a group of armed militia attacking the Jwaneng diamond mine in Botswana - had filled Steve with hope. The team had worked like a well-oiled machine, falling back into the same routine and positions they had years ago. 

Steve had worried being in the field with everyone so soon could have been disastrous. While he, Natasha, and Sam had continued to work side-by-side in the interim, it’d been more than a year since he’d had Clint calling the shots and Tony leading the enemy where they were needed. That first mission had gone perfect, exactly what they’d needed to show the world, but Steve couldn’t quiet the careful hesitance at the back of his mind, the one that said they were only one bad mission away from having their freedoms stripped again.

He could see it in the faces of the employees in the tower. The accountants. The cafeteria workers. The janitorial staff. Everyone was looking to the Avengers for some kind of hope, some kind of sign that everything would be okay, but Steve wasn’t so sure he could give them what they wanted anymore. With what Strange had told them, the fight was coming, regardless of whether they were ready, and that voice in the back of his head said they weren’t where they needed to be.

When Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, Steve shook his head, more than happy to discuss something _other_ that his concerns for the team. It was obvious Natasha had seen _some_ kind of tension in him, and he sighed when he thought about the reasons behind his tightening jaw. “Not trouble, just a... disagreement.”

“What do you mean?”

She was looking at him so earnestly, so genuine, and Steve didn’t have it in him to lie. Not to her. “Bucky feels guilty.”

Natasha’s green eyes lit with understanding. “I get that. It’s a lot to come back to.”

“No,” Steve said with a frown, “I mean, yeah, he has that, too. Seeing the crowds, and the cameras, and the protests that happen from time to time. It’s hard. But this is about something else.”

“What?”

“It’s… hard to explain.”

“Try.”

Steve couldn’t help the soft roll of his eyes. Over the years, his relationship with the copper-haired assassin had grown incredibly strong, strong enough that she’d been able to see the weight that was on his shoulders, the heaviness he couldn’t seem to get away from. He knew that anything they discussed would stay between them, and if he couldn’t talk to one of his best friends, who could he? “Things between us have been great, but there are still issues. Anxiety. Nightmares. Him and Tony haven’t -”

“And probably never will,” Natasha finished, knowing what he meant without needing him to finish the thought.

“I know.”

“But that’s not it,” she guessed, seeing the vindication in his gaze.

“No.”

When he went quiet, Natasha straightened her back, pinning him with a glare. “Spit it out already, Rogers.”

“He told me I should go out and try to find someone else.”

Natasha kept her features schooled, giving nothing away as she blinked at him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she pulled her legs under herself, giving him her whole attention. “Okay.”

“I mean,” Steve said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, “not in so many words, but that’s what he meant. He said he wanted me to find someone whole. Healthy. Someone without all his baggage. I told him that he’s enough. _More_ that enough. I told him I don’t _want_ anyone else, that he’s all I need.” Saying the words out loud made his chest tighten, remembering how off kilter the conversation had left him.

“But he can tell you’re lying.”

The frown on Steve’s face deepend and he pointed it at her. “I’m not.”

“Maybe not actively,” Natasha reasoned, “but Steve… I know. I get it. Just because you’re happy with someone doesn’t mean they can give you everything you need. Of all people, I understand that better than most. Bucky knows he hasn’t always been the only one for you. I saw how much losing Peggy affected you.” She watched his eyes dart down toward his feet, both of them reliving the sadness of the woman’s funeral. Natasha saw the ghost of that loss pass behind his gaze, watching as it took hold in his chest.

 _Peggy._ Thinking about her still filled him with sadness. Even though it’d been years, he felt the sorrow all over again. “I didn’t really see anyone other than Bucky until I met her. Everyone else came and went, but she… she was different. When Bucky met her, he told me he understood, told me I’d be an idiot not to give it a chance. That I could have something real with her.”

“Steve, you _did_ have something real with her.”

“But then Bucky fell and it felt like I’d lost a part of myself. Everything was darkness and she was the only bright thing left. Since then? Nothing’s felt like that again. I’ve tried, here and there.” When Natasha gave him a disbelieving eyebrow raise, Steve’s breath huffed out. “There was someone. We even kissed.”

“And since then?”

“I _just_ got Bucky back, and we _just_ got home. I’m not looking for anyone else. I can’t even…” Steve shook his head, sighing at his head rested against the wall behind him. “...opening myself up to someone else like that? It’s too risky.” 

“It always is,” Natasha hummed, “and it hasn’t helped that you’ve been a little preoccupied.”

Steve frowned again, eyes blinking open and pinning Natasha. “I don’t know why he’s pushing it. Especially now.”

“Steve, it’s like you said. He feels guilty. How many times has he even left the tower since you guys arrived?”

Trying to recall, Steve’s voice was uncertain. “Maybe a handful.”

“He might feel like he’s holding you back.”

Steve shifted in his seat, his answer more forceful than was necessary, “he’s not.”

“I _know_ , Steve. I know.” When he went quiet, Natasha watched his face set into stressful lines. It was clear something was building in Steve, and Natasha had seen strong men fold under that kind of pressure. As her gaze swept over him, she was able to see the exhaustion in him. He and Bucky had been through so much recently that it was no surprise there was tension in their bodies. “When was the last time _you_ left the tower?”

“Monday.”

“ _Not_ mission related?”

Steve fidgeted under her heavy attention. “It’s been a while.”

Natasha’s hand gestured in his direction. “So he feels like he’s chained you here. Humor him. Go out.”

Thinking about her suggestion, and everything that came with it, deepened the expression on his face. Steve didn’t _need_ anything Bucky couldn’t give him. And even if he _did_... “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Just… go out. Walk the streets. Go see a movie. Get out of this place for a few hours. It’d make him feel better, and you might enjoy the time away, too. Even if it’s just to clear your head. Staying here all the time isn’t good for anyone.”

“Everything out there has changed so much.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Natasha said, reaching out to squeeze his knee. “It doesn’t have to be big. Run through Central Park. Take a painting class. Go try hot yoga.” When Steve gave her a suspicious look, her lips quirked up. “All I’m saying is I think you’ve earned a little time to yourself. Time when you’re not Captain America, member of the Avengers, but just _Steve_ , without all that weight that comes with the shield. It’s a big wide world, Rogers. You might like what’s out there. Who knows what you’ll find. Maybe a new favorite restaurant. Maybe a new friend.”

When she climbed to her feet and held a hand out to help from him the bench, a small chagrined smile lifted his lips. “Does Barton know you carry such loose ideas on monogamy?”

“You think we’d still be together if he didnt? _I_ was the one who set him up with Laura. I knew he needed someone who could give him what I couldn’t.”

Steve’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. “I’d really love to hear that story.”

“Some day, Rogers. Maybe someday.”

Tony walked down the hall toward the elevator, smiling at the people he passed, stress ball in his hand being squeezed without thought. It'd been something his therapist had advised him to do, an outlet for the restless energy that seemed to fill his person when he wasn't giving his body as good of a listen as he should. He'd been using it a lot recently, the leaping changes that had occurred in his routine putting him off kilter.

There were more people on the upper floors of the tower now, most of the team moving back as they tried to navigate this new mission, trying to rebuild what had been lost before the Accords had ripped them apart. He wasn't so naive to think that the Accords had been the sole reason for the rift that'd grown, since things of a more personal nature had attributed to the split. Things could never go back to how they were before, when he'd carried no doubts about the found family he'd formed, and part of Tony grieved that oblivious belief. He'd been guarded ever since, always holding a bit of himself back. The only people he didn't question were Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, and Bruce. The people who'd been by his side the longest, who'd never hurt him on purpose, and who weren't afraid to tell him the hard truths and, more importantly, trusted him to handle it.

Things might never be like they were before, but he understood change. He'd gone into that cave in Afghanistan and someone completely different came out. He got that, now. How people you thought you knew could be someone else entirely than you thought. It'd been that way with Obadiah Stane, the man he'd considered a second father after Howard had passed. He'd looked up to the man, trusted him, and it'd all been washed away. Perhaps finding out you never really knew someone was a trigger for Tony, and seeing the knowledge in Steve's eyes, mixed with what he'd just seen happen to his family... he'd reacted out of passion, and betrayal, and it'd nearly cost him his life.

It hadn't, though. Steve had dropped the shield and left it behind. Left _him_ behind, too. Bleeding. Cold. The arc reactor controlling his suit destroyed. Tony'd stumbled down the Siberian mountain, making it to the nearest village before he collapsed. When he'd woken, Pepper had been there at his side, everything they'd been fighting about suddenly infinitesimal. She hadn't left his side since, and in a few short months - or whenever they decided to pull the trigger on the whole thing - she'd be there for good. Something permanent. _Finally._

When the elevator doors opened at the garage level, Tony wove his way through the cars and other vehicles, his sneakers squeaking on the floor. His meeting downtown with a cadre of World Council delegates would be one of the final hurdles in this whole mess, the New Accords seemingly working as they'd been designed. There were still plenty people out there who didn't believe in them anymore, but _Tony_ did, and it seemed now Steve did as well. As he rounded a black, nondescript SVU (which he knew was loaded with the newest technology and defense systems), Tony came to a stop when he saw someone bent around an older motorcycle that he didn't recognize. "You cleared to work on something vintage like that?"

Bucky rose to his feet, pushing the sleeves on his shirt up toward his elbows. He turned and faced Stark, watching the other man's eyes flash with surprise when he realized who he'd come upon. Bucky debated whether to say anything to the engineer, but _not_ answering seemed worse somehow. He pulled the rag from his back pocket and rubbed his hands with it. "Figured I'm one of the only people in house that would be able to."

White noise had taken over in Tony's brain, his heart beating heavily in his chest as he regarded Barnes with cool eyes. In the months since he'd moved into the tower, this was the first time he'd been alone with the man. Meetings and testimonies had been rough, his eyes always straying over in Barnes' direction, anger and frustration and grief nearly choking him. 

He'd thought himself lucky that he'd avoided a meeting exactly like this. Tony knew it would have been easy to leave him there, to turn his back and just walk away, but as he glanced down at the metal prosthetic of Bucky’s left arm, the engineer part of his brain kept him from moving. "Shuri design that for you?"

The fact that Stark hadn't left him without a word was a bit of a shock, but Bucky recovered quickly, holding it out for Tony to inspect, keeping his ground when the other man took a step closer. "Yeah. She says there's nothing else like it."

"She's a genius, so I'd trust her. Brilliant up and comer, gonna surpass any that came before her, yadda yadda yadda. She's earned the praise." Letting the air out of his lungs, Tony surprised even himself when he didn't immediately leave. Instead, his eyes looked over Barnes' shoulder and at the motorcycle he'd been working on. "Where'd that come from?"

Bucky took a step back so Stark could get closer. "I found it online."

Tony'd been leaning forward and taking a closer look, but at Barnes' words, he glanced up with skeptical eyes. "Like on ebay? You know how to use the internet?"

A thousand snarky comments jumped to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. There had been countless missions where The Soldier was needed to break into someone’s computer to get information and smuggle it out. Even past that, he’d lived almost an entire year on his own after the fall of the Triskelion, figuring things out, after Steve’s words had broken through Hydra’s control. The internet had been one of the first things he’d mastered in an attempt to wrestle back part of himself, to figure out who he really was. 

Deciding not to push his luck with the billionaire, Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I know how to use the internet.”

Tony straightened, his hand clenching and unclenching, the stress ball being worked overtime. He circled the bike, nodding. “1942?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, running his hand over the leather of the seat as Tony inspected it. “A WLA -”

“19975. I recognize it. You don’t find many these days. It’s in great condition.”

“I don’t think she saw much of the war.”

Tony’s whiskey-gaze flicked up to look at Barnes, a calculating look in his eyes. He, too, had always referred to his cars as female. His robots were male. And Jarvis? Well, Jarvis had been something else entirely. “You gonna get the sidecar that goes with it?”

Bucky nodded, wrapping fingers around the handle, “just waiting to find one in the same condition.”

“This for personal use, or are you giving it to a museum?”

“Personal. Thought it’d be nice to have something familiar to drive around. I also didn’t want to use any of yours.”

Tony avoided looking at Barnes, nodding, leaving his focus on the bike, his teeth clenching softly. This was perhaps one of the more surreal conversations he’d had, and he felt the absurdity biting up and down his arms. 

He’d listened to Barnes’ testimonies, the brutal retelling of the things he’d done under Hydra’s control. It’d been hard, and the dichotomy of anger and grief, and the tiniest bit of pity, had left him feeling askew. As he looked at Barnes now, it was hard to reconcile the monster that had killed his parents, and the PTSD’d war vet standing in front of him.

“Most of mine are in the private garage through there.” He pointed over Barnes’ shoulder, gesturing to a bright red door behind him. “Everything in _here_ is for _Stark Industries_ use.”

“Ah,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, glancing toward the door before looking back at Tony.

“If you don’t want someone else using it, I’d suggest putting it in there. Some people don’t know how to take care of older stuff.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say to Tony’s advice, so he chose to nod and stay silent. The fact that Tony had offered him a spot in his private garage had thrown him, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to interpret the suggestion. Instead of commenting, he let the pregnant pause hang in the air.

When Barnes chose to say nothing, Tony squeezed the stress ball a few more times, breathing past the emotions that rose in his chest. It’d been a polite conversation, breezy, easy, and if someone hadn’t known their history, they’d have said nearly friendly. Deciding to avoid any backward slide, Tony took a step back before pointing at the bike. “Don’t get oil on my floor.”

Eyes following him as he left, Bucky tried to figure out what had just happened. Steve had made it pretty clear that it would be best to avoid running into Stark if possible, that keeping his distance was one of the only ways this was going to work. Luckily most of Barnes’ security work kept him on the lower levels, away from the executive offices and labs where Stark spent most of his time.

As the red door hushed closed, Bucky nodded to himself. He stuffed the red rag into his back pocket before grabbing a wrench and continuing his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being honest when the truth hurts is harder than almost anything else. It's never easy telling someone something you _know_ is going to break them. Even the brightest people can dim when faced with a hard reality.
> 
> We place so much emphasis on someone being 'the one,' without taking into account that there are so many different 'ones' that you can look your whole life and never see the end. 
> 
> The _one_ that lifts your spirits and makes you laugh when you're down.
> 
> The _one_ that knows all the words to your favorite song and never makes fun of you when you sing off-key.
> 
> The _one_ that will shape your life into something grand simply by being at your side.
> 
> The world is filled with people who might become _that one_ for you. An entire _planet_ of people who may hold that spark inside that calls to yours, like an old friend, like a parent, like a lover.
> 
> Eyes up. Head on a swivel. You've just got to blink your eyes and open your heart, and they'll find you.


	5. I Will Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve navigate an argument, and Steve meets someone new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> It feels like I've been writing this in my head for years, you know?  
> I've got chapters in the chute all the way through the end of May.  
> And we're not even out of Act II.  
> Buckle up, my lovies. It's gonna be a ride.  
> A ride which is made infinitely more awesome with you in it.  
>  _Fuck_ you're a majestic beauty!  
> <3
> 
>   
>    
> 

_And I'll kneel down_  
_Wait for now_  
_I'll kneel down_  
_Know my ground_  
_'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you_  
_Raise my hands_  
_Paint my spirit gold_  
_And bow my head_  
_Keep my heart slow_  


**I Will Wait - Mumford & Sons**

"Steve, that's not what I meant."

"Then explain it better."

With a sigh, Bucky took a heavy seat on the couch in their shared living space, running his hands over the worn flannel of his pajama pants. The way Steve’s blue eyes were flashing at him meant he was ready to have this fight out, but all it did was make Bucky tired. He could tell Steve was frustrated, and try as he might, he couldn’t figure out a way to make the blond understand. “I feel like you're not really living because of me. You need to find someone else.”

“We tried this before, remember? I went on dates when we were younger, when we were still… what we are.”

Bucky shook his head. “And nothing worked out.”

The frown on Steve’s face deepened. “And somehow that’s _my_ fault?”

“It’s not…” Bucky ran a hand over his face, feeling the pressure in the room on his shoulders. “Steve, jesus, it’s like you’re deliberately not getting the picture.”

“Bucky, come on.”

“I feel like I’m your anchor,” Bucky said with a huff of air, his storm gray eyes flicking up to pin Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “you keep me grounded.”

“I keep you _captive_.”

Steve’s tongue clicked as he took a frustrated step back from his best friend. “That’s unfair.”

“Is it? You _had_ something real with Peggy. Don’t you want something like that again?”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest at the mention Peggy, feeling the bittersweet grief like a knife in his chest. “I have that with you.”

“What we have is different, and that’s great, but...” Bucky argued with a hard shake of his head, “it’ll never be like that with me. It can’t.”

“Bucky, what -”

“I can’t give you everything you need!” 

The volume of Bucky’s words and the way he jumped to his feet made Steve take a step back, his jaw tightening. The conversation he’d had with Natasha came to mind, realizing that Natasha had picked up on Bucky’s issues before he had. Steve considered himself pretty good at noticing when something was wrong, but he knew all his wires crossed when it came to Bucky. They always had.

Bucky watched Steve look at him, the mind behind his eyes working quickly. “I’m afraid to go outside. Nightmares wake me up almost every night. The stress and anxiety I have… we would never have a normal life.”

Steve took a small step toward his best friend, seeing the vulnerability laid bare in his eyes. “I’m okay with that.”

“Well _I’m_ not. You deserve something better. You deserve something more than the shadow of a life I can offer you. Now that we’re home, now that we’re not on the run, you’re worth more.”

“Bucky -”

“Steve, I love you so goddamned much that I can't breathe around it. I don't want you to compromise. You have the chance to find someone who's complete, who can help fill the holes that I can't. I want that for you so fucking much, and the fact that you're denying yourself that because of me fills me with blackness. You deserve color in your life, not just ash.”

Bucky watched Steve’s eyes soften, feeling like those were words he’d been chewing on for years, the guilt that turned his stomach when he thought of what Steve _could_ have had if things had been different. He knew that Steve could look past it, but Bucky felt it like a thorn in his mind, sharp and painful when he imagined the kind of life Steve should have.

“You're not just ash, Bucky,” Steve said, lowering his voice, blinking his truth where Bucky could see it. “I love you. I've always loved you.”

“I know, and I know that'll never change, no matter what happens. If you found someone, someone who makes you as bright as Peggy did…” Bucky trailed off, remembering how happy Steve’s eyes had shined when Peggy was near him. He refused to believe his best friend couldn’t find something like that again. “...you have to try. You deserve more than this half life with me.”

Steve considered what Bucky was saying, thinking about the possible futures he’d imagined with the only other person he’d ever loved. Peggy had been special, _so_ different from all the other women he’d ever meant. She’d seen him before the serum, before he’d taken on the shield and everything that came with it. She’d seen the real him, and in the end, he’d lost them both. Now that he’d found Bucky again, he never wanted to let go. “I can’t open myself up like that again.”

“Yes you can.”

When he looked back up at Bucky, eyes close to drowning, he could see a parallel pain in the other man’s eyes. “Losing you and then her…”

“Steve, that's why you’ve gotta _try_.” Bucky closed the space between them, reaching out to place a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I am here, telling you I want you to be happy, and you can't tell me that she wouldn't have wanted the same for you.” He watched Steve look up at him, uncertainty in his gaze. “Just try. Steve Rogers doesn’t know how to quit. How many times did you try to enlist using fake names and addresses? What if you put that same level of intensity out there?”

Even as Steve contemplated the pros and cons to even _attempting_ to find someone else to share his time with, the disbelief of it all stung through him. “Even if I did what you're suggesting, how am I supposed to explain that to anyone? Do you know how ridiculous it sounds? You, my guy, my first love and best friend, is telling me to date other people.”

Bucky shrugged one of his shoulders up. “Times are different now, Steve. Maybe people will understand.”

Even as Bucky’s hand was warm on his shoulder, and he could see the honesty in the grey eyes he’d known his whole life, Steve couldn’t help the guilt he felt even _considering_ what Bucky wanted him to. “It still feels wrong.”

“Then you wait until you find someone that feels right. But you still have to _look_ for them. I'm literally sitting here, telling you I want you to do this. I want you to be happy.”

“And I want _you_ to be happy.”

“Then do this,” Bucky said, “do this for me. And if you try, if you _really try_ , and it doesn't work out? I'm here. I'll always be here.”

Steve raised his arm, wrapping his fingers around Bucky’s forearm. He leaned forward the slightest bit, pressing his lips against Bucky’s softly. All he wanted was to make Bucky happy, and if this was what Bucky needed to feel better, to erase the guilt that weighed on his shoulders, then Steve would try, even if he had no belief that anything would come of it. “I guess could use a new friend.”

“The last new friend you got was Wilson. Maybe you don’t.”

Steve laughed, still not understanding how much Bucky and Sam liked to needle each other and pretend not to get along. They had so much in common if they’d just _attempt_ to be friends. “Hey, you want me to meet new people, you don’t get a say in who those people are.”

“Try for better people.” When Steve’s lips slanted in a smirk, the corner of Bucky’s mouth turned up. It was the good thing about he and Steve’s relationship; they might yell, and shout, and push the other’s buttons in a multitude of ways, but at the end of the day, they were family. Families fought. It was _because_ they cared so much that everything worked. 

Bucky just hoped Steve found what he _hoped_ he would.

The bar was crowded. The murmur of voices and eruptions of laughter made a cacophony of white noise, enough that Steve could get lost in the din. He was using the throngs of people to disappear, to blend into the crowd spending their Friday night with friends and coworkers.

For Steve, drinking alone at the end of the bar in Prospect Park gave him an opportunity to think, to be alone with his thoughts, without the constant eyes that were on him when he was at work. Living in and working out of the tower made everything easier; he never had to worry about traffic or a commute, never had to wonder how long it’d be before the team assembled. There were so many good things about being under the same roof, but it still came with cons, and the skin between Steve’s shoulders blades itched, knowing everyone was looking to him for leadership.

He'd spent his entire life under a microscope, literally and figuratively, and leaving it all behind was difficult for him. Coming home had been bittersweet. After being pulled from that ice, waking up to a world so changed, Steve had marveled at how lost he’d felt. He could be standing in the middle of Times Square and feel absolutely alone. Outside of his team, he’d made no outside connections to the rest of the world. While his friendships with them were strong, incredibly tight and loyal, he found himself looking for a connection that wasn’t predicated on the fact that he was _Captain America_. After his talk with Natasha, he realized that Bucky had been right. He _did_ need to get out of the tower, the walls feeling too much like the metal tube he’d gone into all those years ago.

Steve glanced around the bar, eyes taking in the laughter and friendly faces around him. He tried to remember the last time he’d made a real friend and rememberted it’d been Sam. Sam Wilson had come into his life at the perfect time, someone who knew what kind of fight they had on their hands. That easy camaraderie had saved his life over and over, and while he was ecstatic that he could count Sam as a partner, Steve wondered what it would be like to find someone who _wasn’t_ a soldier. Wasn’t a spy. Someone completely outside of the realm his normal life commanded.

As a group of people to his right erupted in laughter, Steve felt his shoulders tighten, the volume setting his nerves on edge. Maybe this had been a bad idea. A crowded bar on a Friday night should not have been his first foray into the world. He should have started smaller, like Natasha had suggested. Not that he’d ever try a hot yoga class, but maybe a movie would help take him mind off of everything.

When arms were thrown around him from behind, Steve's body tensed for an attack before he heard the whisper of a voice right next to his ear.

"I'm sorry, but this guy keeps trying to talk to me and he's not taking no for an answer, so I told him you were my boyfriend. I'm really sorry, I am, but can you just, like, pretend for a few minutes?"

Shoulders relaxing, Steve watched a pretty woman with dark hair sit on the open stool next to him, a glass of red wine in her hand. He looked at her for a second before glancing over his shoulder, able to pick out the man she'd been talking about. It was clear from the other man's face that he didn't enjoy being rebuffed and his advances ignored, and Steve watched him reach up to run his hand over his mouth before his dark eyes flicked to another woman who brushed past him, his attentions shifting.

Turning back to the woman, Steve watched her shoulders lift and fall in a relieved sigh, her hands fidgeting with the wine glass in front of her. "It appears he'll be looking somewhere else for company," Steve offered, the smile on the woman's face brightening, blue eyes overfilled with gratitude.

"I knew it was stupid to use online dating. The guy I was _supposed_ to meet stood me up. I should have known better. I'm so embarrassed."

Steve watched her lips turn down, a pretty pink blush climbing onto her cheeks. "You don't need to be embarrassed. It was his loss." Again, that smile was beamed in his direction, and Steve could almost feel the heat of it on his skin.

"You're so sweet," she said, "but I'm really, _really_ bad with this dating stuff. It used to be so much easier. Now there are apps, and group dates before solo dates, and it's just _a lot_ to keep up with. I feel like a fish out of water."

"I know what you mean," Steve said with a wry grin, reaching up to scratch as the back of his neck. He wasn't wearing a disguise, but the baseball hat and stubble made most people glance right past him, giving him an air of anonymity. He could practically feel when people recognized him, hear their whispered excitement, see them moving closer in his peripheral vision. He'd chosen _this_ bar because it was dimly lit and the threat of being recognized was slim. 

The woman snorted softly. “Like _you’d_ ever get stood up.” When Steve glanced over at her, she shifted in her seat. “I just mean someone like you. You know, handsome. I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m really bad at this.”

Corner of his mouth lifting up, Steve waved off the bartender when he began to set another bottle down in front of him. 

“I didn’t mean it in any kind of bad way, just that usually people that look as good as you do are the _standee_ , not the _stood up_. Am I wrong? You’re telling me you’ve never stood up a date?”

Thoughts stormed in Steve’s head at the woman’s question, the bittersweet memories of his last conversation before plunging into the ice of the arctic replaying in his mind like a record spinning on a player, over and over. Scratched and marred by time. Just like him.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… this is what I always do. Get around someone cute and end up sticking my foot in my mouth. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Steve assured her, one corner of his mouth lifting up as she continued to look at him with embarrassment tinting her cheeks. “I’ve never stood anyone up when I’ve had the option not to,” he said, “and I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth more than my fair share.”

She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, nodding softly. “Okay. That’s good. Not that you’ve eaten shoe so much, but that I’m not alone. Sometimes it can feel that way.”

He grinned, pointing his smile down toward the bar. “Yeah. It can.”

“I’m sorry, all that and I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Gretchen.”

Steve looked down at her hand then back up to her face, hesitating before shaking it. “Steve.”

Before he realized it, he’d been pulled into an easy conversation with the woman. She was self-deprecating and funny, and though he’d have thought it impossible, it seemed she carried similar interests to his own. She explained how her father had been in the air force, stationed in Korea for several years when she’d been growing up. 

She’d been an art major in college but had recently found a job as a graphic designer. _It’s not my passion, but it’s close enough._ They’d spent hours talking about art, and Steve had found her engaging, and sweet, and for the first time in a while, he felt like he was having an honest conversation with someone as a just a person, and not an Avenger. When she excused herself to the bathroom, Steve lifted his arm to the bartender, ordering another refill of water and another glass of her wine. He felt the buzz of his phone and pulled it free, replying to Sam’s text.

When she slid back into her seat, Steve’s eyes dipped down to her lips, seeing she’d replaced the pretty pink that had rubbed off during their conversation. “I’m sorry that took so long. There was a line. It’s always the story for girls. Never enough stalls.” Falling back into the conversation, she returned to telling him about the time she’d spent in Paris as an intern at the Louvre.

A few minutes had passed before Steve heard the shatter of glass then saw Gretchen’s mouth open in a gasp of surprise when she was pushed against the bar. Steve felt the impact and saw the splash of red liquid as a drink was spilled over Gretchen’s shoulder and down her back. Gretchen slipped to her feet, spinning around to look at the person who’d crashed into her. 

“Are you kidding me? This is Prada! Do you have any idea how much this cost?”

Eyebrows knitting in confusion, Steve watched an ugly sneer turn Gretchen’s face into someone completely different, her voice taking on an affect he hadn’t heard in the hours they’d spent talking. His eyes swept from Gretchen to the woman standing nearby, a look of horror on her face.

“I’m _so_ sorry, fuck, this guy walked behind me and pushed me and, oh, oh my god, is that,” the newcomer gagged, voice thick, as she looked down at her hand, “is that blood?”

Steve took in the scene before him, eyes darting from the broken glass on the floor, the wine spilled, and the look on the unfamiliar woman’s face as she paled then began to turn green. When she wavered on her feet, Steve slipped from his stool, arms reaching out to steady her. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I think, I think I’m gonna -”

Catching her before she fell to the floor or crashing into anyone else, Steve cast a worried glance toward Gretchen. His eyebrows lifted as she began to spit out a torrent of profanity, rudely grabbing a pile of napkins when the bartender held them out toward her. “What a stupid bitch.”

“ **Hey!** ” 

At first Steve thought the bartender was talking to Gretchen, but when he cast a glance at the barman, he realized the man had been calling out to him. “What?”

“She needs some air! Take her out back!”

Steve lifted the dead-weight of the woman into his arms. Blinking, he cast a glance in Gretchen’s direction, watching her angrily dab at her shirt. He opened his mouth to say something to her before she turned and shouted at the man behind the bar, demanding a glass of seltzer and growling ‘ _that cunt better not have ruined a three-hundred dollar blouse_ ’. With a sigh and a frown, Steve left her there. 

He pushed through the bar toward the back, feeling eyes on them as he traversed the crowd with the woman in his arms. Past the bathrooms and the lines, past the kitchen and the small office, until he could nudge open the door to the alley, which sported a large sign that read:

**Exit to Alley - Employees Only**

And right under that, scrawled onto a piece of paper:

**We can’t believe we have to say this,  
But if you want to hook up,  
Do it in the bathroom like everyone else.**

He’d hoped that there would be something in the alley, somewhere he could put down the limp woman in his arms, but there was nothing except for the closed lid of a dumpster, but he had an inkling that whenever she woke up, doing so on a dumpster would be just as bad as being _in_ the dumpster. When the door behind him swung open, Steve turned back toward it, the girl’s hair swishing through the air.

“You okay, Darce?”

Glancing up at the bartender, Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looked down at the woman in his arms, her face a perfect mask of _nothing_. That changed, however, when she squinted one eye open and glanced at the man who’d called her name. Like a light had been switched, her face refilled with life, a sigh passing her lips as she dropped the ruse. “I’m alright, Ern,” she said, waving a hand in his direction. “Sorry about the broken glass. Will you put it on my tab?”

“No, but I’ll put free drink on it for looking out for our friend here.”

“Aw, you’re a sweetheart, thanks.”

As the door swung closed, Steve felt like an idiot for the perpetually confused expression that had taken camp on his face. When the woman blinked up at him, an amused look in the hazel of her eyes, he wasn’t sure what to say. “What -”

“You can put me down now,” she said, her mouth turning up in a smirk.

“Right, yeah, uh, sorry.” Steve set her down carefully, still uncertain what was going on but leaving a hand on her arm in case she wasn’t ready to stand just yet. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said with a dismissive wave, arm lifting to run a hand through her hair. “I didn’t really pass out and this isn’t blood, it’s ketchup.”

As he watched her pull a napkin from inside her shirt, the frown on Steve’s face only grew deeper. He was obviously missing something. “Then why -”

“I heard the girl you were talking to in the bathroom. She called TMZ to find out how much they’d pay her for a picture of your…” she coughed lightly, her attention flicking down to gaze at the jeans he wore before those hazel eyes looked up at him again, “... _shield_.”

It took a second for her words to filter all the way to his brain. When it clicked, Steve’s spine straightened and his lips flattened. A wave of pique filled his chest; the bulk of the disappointment wasn’t even with toward Gretchen, but with _himself_. He’d gone to the bar to have a few hours to himself, a break from the week he’d had, so he’d be able to tell Bucky he’d _tried_ , but he should have known better. If he’d learned one thing since coming out of the ice, it was that the world was different. _So_ different.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” she said, placing a hand on his arm, using him for support as she lifted her foot and flicked at a paper that was sticking to the bottom of her sneaker. She righted herself, brushing her hands down the front of her oversized flannel shirt. “You wouldn’t be the first person to get lured in by dark hair and a perfect set of teeth.”

Steve put his hands on his hips and let out a sigh. “She seemed so nice.”

“They always do.” She tossed away the receipt she’d stepped in and turned back to him with a smile. “I’m Darcy, by the way, but I’ll also answer to ‘ _my personal hero_ ’.”

He took her outstretched hand and shook it, one corner of his mouth turning up at her words. If what she said was true, her being his hero wasn’t that far off. He couldn’t even _imagine_ what the media would have done if Gretchen had been successful. “Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” Darcy said with a smile. “Word of advice? Don’t pick up girls at a bar. I’m not saying that _all_ people in a bar are skeezy, just a good chunk of them. Things have changed quite a bit since the 40s.”

“Have they?” he asked, lips slanting as she looked at him. It was obvious Darcy knew who he was, seeing as she’d referred to his shield and the growing up in the forties, but it didn’t appear like it made any difference in how she was treating him. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Darcy laughed, shaking her head. “Gorgeous _and_ a sense of humor? Add in ‘good cook’ and you’d be a triple threat.”

Blinking at the easy compliments that fell from her full lips, Steve’s shoulder lifted softly. “Does making popcorn in the microwave count?”

“Mmmmm,” Darcy hummed, “it does to me.” When he gave her a small grin, she returned the expression. “This is actually a good place, just not on Friday nights. Ernie tries his best to keep the shenanigans to a minimum, but he can’t stop _all_ the douchebags from getting in.”

He watched her blink at him, gaze steady but not expectant. She seemed content to let him lead the conversation, and he reached up to pull the hat from his head and scratch at the back of his neck. “You come here a lot?” Something he said made her smile, and he found himself returning it.

“I live upstairs,” Darcy explained, resisting the urge to rub her arms against the chill in the October air. “Been here for a while now. We’ve got this guest speaker thing at Berkley. At least, we do until our stipend runs out. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to rely on ramen and one-ply toilet paper. My partner’s got an interview with someone next week, though, so who knows where we’ll be then.”

Steve nodded, glancing to their right as a car horn split the night air, someone shouting on the street. His attention turned back to Darcy, watching as she deftly pulled her hair back and secured it, revealing the pretty features of her face. “What are you teaching?”

Darcy laughed, the sound echoing off the bricks that surrounded them. “Oh, god, no, not me. I just go where she goes. Most of the time, anyway.” When he stood there, looking like someone had kicked his puppy, Darcy felt her _Savior Savior Complex_ take over. She jutted her thumb over her shoulder and toward the back door. “Did you, I mean, want to go back inside? I could stick my head in and make sure she’s gone. Ernie put a free drink on my tab. Consider it a ‘my date was an unmitigated disaster’ consolation beer.”

Giving her a small smile, Steve glanced down at his boots, toe pressing in the puddle of water left over from the autumn rain the day before. He thought about telling Darcy that it hadn’t really been a date, but decided not to. If he was being honest, the bait and switch Gretchen had pulled - if that was even her real name - had left him tired and frustrated. It wasn’t a great first foray back into the world, and he decided his pride had taken enough of a hit. “That’s a nice offer, really, but I think I’m gonna gather my dignity off the floor and head home.”

“The floor is sticky so be sure to send that dignity out for dry cleaning.” When he gave a soft snort of laughter, Darcy’s grin widened. Happy that she’d been able to stave off a PR nightmare for the soldier and superhero, Darcy crossed to the fire escape attached to the building. She only had to jump twice in order to grab the bottom rung of the ladder and pull it down. Glancing over at Steve, she gave him a nod of her head before she began climbing.

Steve had watched her jump, and was seconds away from offering to help, before his words faded. As she climbed, his eyes slid down to where the flannel of her shirt ended and the soft-looking black leggings met. When he realized he was, essentially, looking straight at her ass, Steve cleared his throat and turned to his right. It was nice enough out that a run back to the Tower would help him clear his thoughts. Or get lost in them. Either would be fine.

“Hey Steve?”

Turning back to look up at her, Steve watched her lean against the fire escape railing, an amused look in her eyes. “Yeah?”

“TMZ would never pay me enough.” When he just blinked at her, Darcy couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out. She’d been looking to make him smile, and when the blue neon light reflected off his teeth, she felt a surge of victory in her chest. “You have a good night, Captain.”

Steve watched her shake her head, still laughing, then climb through a window on the second floor. When the window and curtains were shut, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, burrowing further into his jacket. Steve made his way out of the alley and toward the street, lips tugging upward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waiting.  
> Waiting for the right moment.  
> Waiting for the right time.  
> Waiting for the right person.  
> It's never easy.  
> Hold onto that hope and don't let go.  
> It might just be a shot in the dark, but even when blind, your heart knows what it needs.  
> Seek it out.  
> Cut out what doesn't build you up.  
> Never apologize for shedding the toxicity and negativity others have tried to stain you with.  
> It's your paint brush. It's your canvas.  
> Color it beautifully.  
> That hope lights the way.


	6. So Much More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve returns home to Bucky after his semi-disaster of a night out. Natasha checks in on Bucky. Jane receives an email she can't ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Happy birthday, Fred and George Weasley!  
> April 1st is for all you troublemakers out there!  
> We're getting closer and closer to the end of Act I!  
> It's all coming together!  
> *confetti*  
> The response to this story is still flabbergasting me...  
> ... but _thank you all_. Honestly. Just... thank you!
> 
>   
>    
> 

_I see it around me_  
_I see it in everything_  
_I could be so much more than this_  
_I said my goodbyes_  
_This is my sundown_  
_I'm going to be so much more than this_  
_With one hand high_  
_You'll show them your progress_  
_You'll take your time_  
_But no one cares_  
_I need you to show the way from crazy_  
_I want to be so much more than this_  


**My Sundown - Jimmy Eat World**

When Bucky heard the door to their rooms open, he cast a glance at the clock. It was late, or early if that’s how you wanted to look at it, and Steve had been gone for hours. “Steve?”

Steve shrugged out of his jacket and hoodie as he made his way into the bedroom, eyes taking in the scene before him. Bucky was in bed, shirtless, pillows mounded behind him. The light on his side of the bed was lit, and a worn sci-fi novel was in his hands. It painted a beautiful picture, and Steve looked his fill.

“Did you meet up with Nat for dinner?”

Taking a seat at the end of the bed, Steve began unlacing his shoes. “No, I went out.”

Bucky eyes widened where Steve couldn’t see them, folding down the corner of the page and tossing the book on his nightstand. “Really?”

The skepticism in Bucky’s voice had Steve rolling his eyes. “Yes, really.” Slipping the boots from his feet, he turned toward his best friend. “Did you know Fisher’s butcher shop is now a bar?”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Pretty much everything has been turned into a bar these days.” Even as Steve nodded at him, Bucky found it hard to believe. “You actually went to a bar? By yourself?” He couldn’t help the small chuckle at the idea. Bucky had always been the one dragging them out when they were younger. Steve had never been the ‘bar’ type.

Steve frowned at the look of amusement in Bucky’s expression. “Don’t laugh at me, jerk. It was my first time.”

“Were they gentle?”

He shook his head at Bucky and his smirk, looking down at his hands. “You’re an asshole.”

“Tell me.”

“Again? You’re an asshole.”

“No, punk, I meant tell me how it went. Did you meet anyone?”

“I met a lot of people. Like the bartender. His name is Ernie.”

The look Bucky shot Steve held a hint of edge. “That’s not what I meant and you damn well know it.” When Steve continued to avoid looking up at him, Bucky’s eyebrows lifted. He wasn’t sure why, but Steve was trying to avoid telling his story. Which meant it was bad. Or good. Bucky couldn’t tell which. “What? What happened?”

“There was a girl.”

He waited for Steve to continue, but when he didn’t, Bucky sat up a little straighter, realizing he might have to drag it out of the blond. “Okay. And?”

“Her name was Gretchen.”

“Sounds pretty.”

“She was. She was nice, too. Or I _thought_ she was nice.”

“What happened?”

Pulling his legs under him, knowing the story was going to take a bit, Steve turned so he could look at Bucky. They’d spent many nights like this, only the roles had been reversed. When he was sick, living vicariously through his best friend had been one of the only bright spots in all the ache and pain. “We talked for a while. Hours, actually. Then someone spilled a drink on her. Then _that_ someone passed out, so I took her out back to get some air.”

“You took Gretchen outside?”

“No. The girl that had passed out.”

“Why’d she pass out?”

“The wine glass she’d was holding shattered.”

“She was bleeding?”

“Yes,” Steve said before frowning. “Well, no, not really.”

Bucky frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Apparently the girl I’d been talking to -”

“Gretchen, yeah, I remember.”

“She wasn’t _actually_ as nice as she seemed. She’d gone to the bathroom and called a gossip rag to find out how much a picture of me would sell for.”

“You’d think they had more than enough pictures of you.”

“Yeah, no, not a picture of my face. A picture of _me_.”

Steve stared at Bucky, willing him to understand what he’d meant. When the connections were made in his brain, Bucky’s face stayed impassive. He blinked quickly. “What?”

“Yeah.” When a laugh broke from Bucky’s mouth, a glare sharpened Steve’s eyes. “Shut up.” When that did nothing as well, Steve slapped out at Bucky’s bicep. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m sorry, that was just more of a jump than I’d thought. Okay, so she wanted to snap a picture and make some money. What does that have to do -”

“The girl that passed out didn’t really pass out. She overhead Gretchen’s call in the bathroom and decided to save me.”

Again, Bucky’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “She spilled the glass on purpose?”

“ _And_ pretended to faint. Once I got her out back, she told me what she’d overheard.”

“But the blood?”

“Just ketchup. She staged the whole thing.”

“Wow.” Bucky laughed again, watching Steve’s lips also curl upward after a few seconds. “Not the first outing I’d hoped you have, but at least it was exciting. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I _think_ Pepper and the _Stark Industries’_ PR team would have had a field day if I’d gone any further.”

“Sounds like that good samaritan helped quite a bit.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah.”

Bucky watched something pass behind Steve’s blue gaze, something that lifted his lips. It was the first honest smile Bucky had seen on Steve’s face in quite some time. “What’s that? What’s that grin for?”

“What?” Steve said, glancing up at Bucky and the calculating expression on his face. “Nothing.”

Clicking his tongue, Bucky gave the other man a look that said he clearly wasn’t buying the bullshit Steve was shoveling his way. “Don’t lie to me, Steve. I know you better than that.”

Shrugging a shoulder, Steve tried to school the expression on his face. “It’s just… the girl, the one who pretended to pass out. She was nice.”

“ _Fake_ nice like Gretchen, or _real_ nice?”

“Real.” Though his words had been sure, a second after they left his mouth, Steve’s gaze tinted with uncertainty. “I think.”

“Did you get her number?” The face Steve shot him made it clear that he’d failed that particular mission. “Okay, then do you know how to get in touch with her? Maybe you can offer to take her out for coffee in thanks. That’s what people do now.”

“She lives above the bar.”

“Perfect. Go back and see her again.”

Steve frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Steve, you’ve already had someone want to plaster your dick all over the papers. What’s worse than that?”

Looking up at Bucky sharply, a look of exasperation found residence on Steve’s face. “You just had to say it. You _always_ have to say it.”

Bucky’s shoulder lifted and dropped, a smirk on his lips. “It’s my job to plan for all vulnerabilities.”

Steve could understand the look in Bucky’s eyes, recognize it for what it was, but some part of him couldn’t help but find the whole situation a bit surreal. “It still feels so weird, you encouraging me to go out.”

Bucky grinned. “You’ll get used to it.” When Steve continued to look at him with skepticism, he reached out and fisted his fingers in the fabric of Steve’s shirt, pulling him closer so he could whisper against Steve’s lips. “Let me show you I don’t have any problems with it.”

**Date:** May 16, 2018  
 **To:** JaneFosterMD@gmail.com  
 **From:** **Redacted**  
 **Subject:** Job Opportunity  


Ms. Foster,  


I represent a company who has closely monitored your work over the years. We are impressed with your hypotheses and are anxious to tell you about a once-in-a-lifetime job opening we have. When would you be available to meet to discuss this matter? 

Thank you, Interested Party  


______________________________________________________ 

**Date:** May 20, 2018  
**To:** **Redacted**  
**From:** JaneFosterMD@gmail.com  
**Subject:** RE: Job Opportunity  


I am currently under contract with Berkeley until early October. 

Dr. Jane Foster 

______________________________________________________ 

**Date:** May 20, 2018  
**To:** JaneFosterMD@gmail.com  
**From:** **Redacted**  
**Subject:** RE: Job Opportunity  


I see. Will you be available to meet? We are willing to wait until you're available. 

_____________________________________________________

**Date:** May 23, 2018  
**To:** **Redacted**  
**From:** JaneFosterMD@gmail.com  
**Subject:** RE: Job Opportunity  


Yes, anytime after October 4th. 

Dr. Jane Foster 

______________________________________________________ 

**Date:** May 23, 2018  
**To:** JaneFosterMD@gmail.com  
**From:** **Redacted**  
**Subject:** RE: Job Opportunity  


October 10th at 7:15. New York Public Library. Conference room 100A. 

We'll see you then. 

One good thing about living at the tower was that the upper levels were higher security clearance than most people had. It meant that the fitness rooms were quiet first thing in the morning. Steve had been working out with Sam in the afternoons, after their debriefs and meetings for the day, but Bucky had always appreciated rising early.

His nightmares were one of his main motivations. They were nearly nightly, and when he finally gasped into consciousness, he was in desperate need to excise the adrenaline and horror. Working out by himself was just fine with him, and finding the gyms empty meant he didn’t have to pretend to be alright.

As his wrapped fists pounded into the leather bag, Bucky vented all his frustration, all his anxiety, every ounce of tension in his body. He knew it would only be a few hours until sleep found him, until his night was splashed with blood in vivid technicolor, but for the moment he was draining the terror into the exhaustion of his muscles.

Shoulders tightening when he felt eyes on him, his memories supplied him easily with who’d entered the gym, nearly silently. They seemed content to stay silent, but Bucky wasn’t really looking for an audience. “Something you’ve got to say?”

Walking closer, Natasha’s feet made no noise, carrying her until he could glance over and see the contemplative look on her face. “Just checking in,” she rasped. “Haven’t seen you much since we all moved in.”

Bucky’s fist continued to hit leather, his breathing labored, tone annoyed at being interrupted. “I’ve been busy.”

Natasha walked further where he could see her, taking up a spot behind the bag, holding it steady for him. “Yeah, working on the security. Happy can’t stop raving about you.”

Disbelief crossed his features as he looked at her. “Liar,” he said, watching one corner of her mouth lift the slightest bit. “He hates that Steve and I are looking over his shoulder.”

Her shrug was graceful, accepting that he’d been able to tell her deceit. He’d always been good at that. “Seems like things are going pretty well with you, though I don’t see you around as much.”

It was clear that she was beating around the bush, something specific on her mind, but Bucky didn’t want to give her anything else to use against him. It appeared she’d already pegged his number and enjoyed drawing it out of him. “This place has everything I need. No reason to go anywhere else.”

“No reason to go outside and be around people, you mean.” When his grey gaze flicked up to hers, Natasha gave him a small nod of her head. “I get it. After everything came out with me, all the missions I’d gone on, everything in the Red Room…” She watched his shoulders tense and his breath hiss out, “I didn’t feel like showing my face, either.”

If she’d been going for surprise, she’d gotten it, and Bucky let his lungs throb before he took air in again, the memories of how he’d helped the KGB train little girls into assassins coloring his vision for a few seconds. He’d been dealing with those memories for months, now, and he eventually pushed past the anger and ash into something more stoic. “But you did.”

“I had to.” When he took a step away from the bag and begin to pull the tape from his knuckles, Natasha followed him. “Not owning it somehow felt like they’d won, and I wasn’t going to let the stain bleed onto my life anymore than it already did.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Bucky said, tossing the tape into a garbage can. 

Again, her lips lifted. “I know. Doesn’t make it easier.” When a beat of silence built in the room, she watched him take a drink from his water bottle, skin slick with sweat. He blinked at her, able to tell that she was building up to something. She didn’t have to reason _how_ he knew, because he’d been the one to teach her how to wipe her face of anything, how to erase everything from her eyes. He’d known her before that lesson had been beat into her, and she suddenly felt like a child again, hinting at being a woman. “Steve told me, about you wanting him to find someone else.”

When she breathed the real reason for her visit, Bucky shook his head and took a heavy seat on the bench. _Of course_ Steve would have talked to Natasha about their argument. Other than Wilson, Natasha was as close to Steve as anyone. He glanced up at her, unsurprised to see a look of quiet satisfaction at the fact that she had the upper hand in the conversation. Deciding it was useless to try and lie, he took a turn and decided to tell the truth, in all its frustrating color. “He doesn’t get it.”

“I know he doesn’t. A lot of people wouldn’t. But I do. Better than most.”

“I know you do,” Bucky nodded. There were things about himself that _only_ the copper-haired assassin would understand. They’d shared the darkest parts of themselves with each other over the years. His storm-colored eyes flicked up to her beautiful green. “How did you get Barton to understand it?”

“It wasn’t easy.” Natasha took a seat next to him, leaning back against the wall, resting her head on the poster of Rita Hayworth that had been tacked up. “It’s hard for someone you love to hear you _say_ that you love them, while in the same breath telling them they need to find someone one.”

“Exactly,” Bucky said, back straightening, “if he’d just -”

“But it’s not really someone else, is it?”

Frowning, Bucky looked over at her, and the serene expression that lit her features.

“It’s not someone who’s going to be completely separate from you and Steve. They’re not replacing you. It’s someone in _addition_ to you and Steve.”

Her words made him pause and consider what she was saying. When he told Steve to find someone, it was always with an unsaid understanding that no one would come _between_ them. Was that what Steve thought? Was _that_ why he was so against the idea? Because he thought they’d be losing what was between them?

When they’d grown up, it was nothing for Bucky to take a dame out on a Friday, tumbling into their bed, or in a darkened alley, or wherever they could get their hands on each other. He’d been charming, and polite when it was called for, and he’d never had a shortage of girls who wanted him. And he’d go, sometimes dancing, sometimes to a movie, but the one constant was Steve. He’d always come home to Steve, back to the easy relationship they had. The girls hadn’t meant anything. It’d been a means to an end, really.

But he knew Steve had never been like that. He’d accepted the situation with a smile, holding a hand out to Bucky when he’d come home smelling of sex and cheap perfume. Now, in their current situation, Bucky was the one expecting _Steve_ to do the same. And he’d wait for Steve to come home, just like Steve had done all those years ago.

However, Natasha made it sound like that wasn’t what needed to happen, either. She spoke of someone working with _both_ of them. The thought seemed outside his realm of possibilities. His entire life, Bucky’d never felt the way he did with Steve, and he knew until Peggy, neither had Steve. And while he’d found Peggy attractive and could see how great of a woman she was, he hadn’t felt that spark. She’d only had eyes for Steve, and it was one of the things Bucky admired most about the woman.

The idea of finding someone for _both_ of them… He didn’t know. “I’m not sure how that would work.”

“I’m sure you can figure out how to make it work.”

Natasha’s deadpan voice hid nothing, and he looked over at her with narrowed eyes. “No, I mean letting someone else into Steve and I’s relationship. I’m not… I can’t even think about anyone else like that.”

“Why?”

“Are you really asking me why I don’t want to let someone else in? You know my history. You were there for some of it.”

She quirked one crimson eyebrow at him. “How can you ask Steve to do that, when you’re not willing to do it yourself?”

The glower on his face grew darker. “That makes it hard.”

“Love is hard.”

The cavalier way she was speaking belied the mind that was in constant work behind her green gaze. “Well said,” he said with a huff of laugh, “with the sage advice”

Natasha lifted and dropped one shoulder. “When you’ve been alive as long as I have, you learn a few things.”

The weight of their history pressed down on them, as it always did when their conversation turned to the dark past they shared. Deciding _not_ to let it take hold, trying to follow her lead and not letting it bleed onto his life anymore, he glanced at her. “...how does it work? With you, and Clint, and Laura.”

“That’s a pretty personal question, Barnes.”

“You know what I meant, Natalia.” He watched her look over at him sharply, something flashing in her eyes at the easy fall of her name. Or what _had_ been her name, when he knew her from before. He half expected her fist to dart out and kiss his jaw, but it seemed like she reconciled the emotion that rolled within in, taking a deep breath in before leaning forward, putting her elbows on her knees.

“I do,” she agreed. “We… make it work. Laura and I are close. We keep in touch. We both love Clint, and we both love their kids. That family… I wasn’t able to give that to Clint, but Laura can. She did. And I’m glad she did. I’m grateful. His life is better with her in it.”

“And your life? Is your life better, too?”

The small smile that climbed onto her lips was real, and Bucky watched her eyes light with it. It was beautiful, seeing her let her walls down for the briefest of moments, catching a glimpse of the woman she might have been if they hadn’t broken her down and built her back into a weapon. He could never hope to have that look reflected in himself. 

“I can’t imagine losing any of it.”

Nodding, Bucky sat back, letting his head lean against the way behind them. “So it’s possible.”

“It is.” She rose to her feet, holding out a hand toward him. “You just have to find the right person.”

Accepting her help, Bucky climbed to his feet, his fingers tightening around hers, a nonverbal show of gratitude. “I hope he does.”

“I hope you _both_ do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesteday was Transgender Visibility day. A day to honor  
> Those who fought for Trans rights  
> Those that suffered through pain and heartache  
> Those that were told they were born wrong or they're incomplete  
> Those who fear reprisal for simply existing.  
> You are so much stronger and beautiful than you could ever known.  
> You are _not_ weak for wanting protection under the laws of this country.  
> You are _strong_ for dealing with the bullshit that others heap on your shoulders.  
> You are _not_ wrong, or broken, or incomplete.  
> You should _not_ have to live in fear, from your own family of society at large.  
> You are _valued_. You are _important_. You are _gorgeous_.  
> My heart beats with yours, a melody they'll never be able to scream over.  
>  _I_ love you. I _love_ you. I love _you_.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **  
> [The Village - Wrabel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tilsrO-3gcQ)  
>   
>  _No, your mom don't get it, and your dad don't get it, Uncle John don't get it_  
>  _And you can't tell grandma 'Cause her heart can't take it_  
>  _And she might not make it_  
>  _They say: Don't dare, don't you even go there_  
>  _Cutting off your long hair_  
>  _You do as you're told_  
>  _Tell you: Wake up, go put on your makeup_  
>  _This is just a phase you're gonna outgrow_  
>  _There's something wrong in the village_  
>  _They stare in the village_  
>  _There's nothing wrong with you_  
>  _It's true, it's true_  
>  _There's something wrong with the village_  
>  _Feel the rumors follow you from Monday all the way to Friday dinner_  
>  _You got one day of shelter, then it's Sunday hell to pay,_  
>  _you young lost sinner_  
>  _Well I've been there, sitting in that same chair_  
>  _Whispering that same prayer half a million times_  
>  _It's a lie though, buried in disciples, one page of the Bible isn't worth a life_  
>  _There's something wrong in the village_  
>  _They stare in the village_  
>  _There's nothing wrong with you_  
>  _It's true, it's true_  
>  _There's something wrong with the village_  
>  _There's nothing wrong with you_  
>  _It's true, it's true_  
>  _There's something wrong with the village_  
> 


	7. Hesitate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve looks for someone particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Oh, you lovely, lovely readers.  
> My body tried to take me down with some strep throat  
> But I told my body "Too bad! I've got a chapter to post!"  
> After this posts I will be shutting down for the rest of the night...  
> ... but I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
>   
>   
> 

_I came here tonight just to see you_  
_And our friends all know, they don't mind_  
_'Cause it's probably not too hard to see through_  
_This take it or leave it I'm trying_  
_I'm new to this city, but I get the feeling_  
_I'll be here a while if you'll be here a while and_  
_I'll wait till it's fitting, walk over to sit and_  
_Talk to you all night you look beautiful tonight_  
_I'm captivated_  
_You know I stayed so I could walk to your car_  
_'Cause I wanna know your heart_  
_And you laugh and smile_  
_But you might decide to say goodnight and drive away_  
_But I hope that you hesitate_  


**Hesitate - Jake Scott**

When a head of dark auburn hair made its way toward the bar, Steve sat a little higher on his stool. His shoulders fell when he realized it wasn't the person he'd been looking for, blue eyes swinging down to the beer bottle he'd been nursing most of the night. He'd shredded the label over the course of the two hours he'd been waiting, hoping to see Darcy make her way through the crowd.

In the week that had passed since he'd first met her, Steve had found his mind straying to that night a quite a lot. In quiet moments. He'd thought Gretchen had been honest, talking with him for so long, common interests and conversation filling the hours, but now that he replayed it all in his head, he was able to see the glaze over her eyes as she'd laughed at his jokes, the forced smiles when he'd found himself flustered at the attention. 

Natasha’s suggestion to get out of the tower for a few hours had been a good one, and his conversation afterwards with Bucky had _mostly_ absolved him of any guilt the encounter may have caused. The thought that he’d met someone who knew who he was, but _still_ wasn’tput off had stuck with him. Thinking of Gretchen made him consider not trying again, staying where he was, keeping his life confined to the tower and the people he already knew. It was safer. Easier.

... but then he remembered the scant minutes he'd spent with Darcy, and the honesty that had shone in her hazel eyes, and he felt that spark reigniting. The one that whispered that maybe there was hope he could find a real friend in the woman. They hadn't met in a conventional way, but there was almost _nothing_ in his life that was conventional. One of those unconventional things included his best friend and first love _encouraging_ him to find and build something with someone else. 

It was a song he and Bucky had been dancing to forever; the stigma of loving another man might have lessened since they’d been kids, and though their relationship was deeper and stronger than anything else, there were things they both needed that they just couldn’t give each other. Steve knew it wouldn’t make sense to most people. Sometimes it didn’t even make sense to him, but the elusive wisp of possibility had brought him out again, looking for someone in particular. When she didn’t appear, he reasoned that he wouldn’t be finding her tonight.

“You want another?”

Steve looked up at the man behind the bar, frowning when he realized his thoughts had been loud enough to distract him from the sounds of the people surrounding him. “I think I’m good, thanks. How much?”

“‘s on the house,” Ernie said with a wave of his hand.

Steve’d been pulling cash from his pocket but stopped, looking up at the barman with a look of exasperation. “You didn’t have to -”

“Don’t mention it. Literally. I don’t want the rest of your team thinking they can come down and get free drinks. That Thor fella looks like he could drink me dry.”

Lips curling up, knowing by experience how much the Asgardian could pack in, Steve gave him a thankful nod of his head, pulling the rim of his hat farther down. He’d gotten good at telling when people were beginning to recognize him, and Steve could practically feel their eyes on the back of his neck.

"She's not here," Ernie said as he wiped down the wood in front of Steve, grabbing the empty bottle with it's torn label and tossing it in the bin behind the bar.

"Who?" Steve asked, eyebrows knitting together before the man gave him a knowing smirk. It was clear his spy schtick hadn’t worked. He’d have to ask Nat for some more pointers. “Was I that obvious?”

“Nah, you’re fine. I’ve been doin’ this for thirty-years and it’s given me a super power all on my own. She doesn’t normally come down on Friday nights. Too loud. Too many people."

"Ah." It was silly for Steve to feel disappointment at the knowledge, but he did. He’d only met Darcy once, but something about her had made him feel comfortable. The fact that she’d been willing to help him avoid a potentially costly mistake had charmed him, but it was the _way_ she’d talked to him that had stuck. 

She hadn’t made him feel like _Captain America_. She hadn’t appeared starstruck. Hadn’t asked for a picture or an autograph. She’d treated him like _Steve Rogers_ , and it had been a long time since he’d felt like he was someone other than the man behind the shield. Darcy had joked about being a ‘hero’ but part of Steve believed it. She’d swooped in, helped him, then had blended back into the red bricks of the city like some kind of guardian angel. He’d just wanted to show his appreciation. That was harmless, right?

"You could try out back.”

Steve turned back to the barman, an eyebrow raised. 

“She likes to hang out on the fire escape. If she's not out there, she sometimes leaves the window open. It's worth a shot, right?"

Giving the bartender a nod, his lips turning up, Steve pulled a bill from his wallet and stuffed it in the tip jar when Ernie wasn’t looking. He debated not taking the man’s advice. Part of him reasoned that if she hadn’t appeared from the crowd, maybe it was time to take that as a sign, some kind of push from the universe telling him to just let things go.

He took a step toward the front, thinking of taking a walk around Prospect Park, but _something_ made him turn and glance toward the back of the bar and the door that led to the alleyway. Steve had been dealing with fate and destiny for years now, and maybe just this once he would take things into his own hands and exert his own control over his life. He moved through the crowd carefully, trying not to draw any more attention than was necessary. He glanced to his left, nodding his head at Ernie, earning a smirk on his way.

Weaving through the crowd, he took a deep breath as he pushed open the back door, the cold helping stave off some of the ‘alley behind a bar’ smell that seemed to surround every drinking establishment in the city. He looked up, walking backward until he could see past the fire escape, blue eyes intent on the darkened window that led to Darcy’s apartment. He debated climbing to the window and knocking, but figured that was a lot more forward than he wanted to appear, and instead looked down.

Steve scanned the ground, looking for anything he could use to throw at the window, just enough to get her attention if she _was_ inside. He found a small pile of bottle caps next to the dumpster and threw them in the air softly before catching them, getting a feel for their weight. Lining up his shot, Steve let one fly, hearing the tinkle of metal on glass. He waited for several seconds, hoping to see a light turn on in the interior.

When nothing on the other side of the window moved, he threw another one. Again, there was no indication that anyone was home. He let the caps scatter to the ground, shaking his head at himself. Steve was basically throwing pebbles at a window of a girl he didn’t know, and it hit him how utterly absurd the entire situation was. Feeling ridiculous, he grabbed the zipper on his jacket and pulled it up, directing himself out of the alley and toward the street. 

He’d taken a good ten steps away before he spun back and retraced his steps. He bent and grabbed a cap before throwing it in one quick motion. His shoulders lifted toward his ears in embarrassment when the cap smashed through the window, the sound echoing off the bricks around the alley. He winced when he saw a light flip on. _Now you’ve done it._

“Alright you drunk fucks, you wanted my attention? You fucking got it!” Darcy grabbed the bottom of the window with one hand, careful of the glass that was scattered on the ground, and threw it open. Her other hand held a solid wood baseball bat, and she knocked it against the metal fire escape, hoping the sound alone would be enough to send the belligerent bar patrons packing. When Darcy peered over the side of the railing, an angry glare pointing downward, she had absolutely _not_ anticipated or prepared herself for what greeted her below. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurted, holding his empty hands up where she could see them, feeling heat spring to his cheeks. He took a step closer, expression penitent and embarrassed, “I didn’t, I mean, I didn’t mean to throw it that hard, and the window broke. I’ll pay, of course. I’m sorry.”

A huff of air passed Darcy’s lips, brain still attempting to connect the dots while surprise pinged through her body. “What?”

“I’ll pay for it to be repaired. Is Ernie the landlord? I could just go inside and pay him -”

“Why were you throwing stuff at my window?” Darcy leaned the baseball bat against the metal and crossed her arms on the railing, looking down at him, head cocked to the side as she watched him fumble over his words.

“I was inside, and I thought maybe you’d be down like you were last week, but you weren’t. Ernie said you stay out here sometimes and I wanted to see you.” When Darcy raised a dark eyebrow at him, Steve tasted the flavor of boot on his tongue. “I mean, I wanted to see if you’d come down and have a drink with me.”

“No.”

Steve blinked up at her. While he’d been uncertain of her answer, he hadn’t anticipated such a quick dismissal of the idea. “Oh. That’s fine.”

“No, Steve, I mean that I won’t come _down_ there to get a drink. My outside-pants are already off and once they’re off, they stay off. _But_...” Darcy said, watching him look up at her as she took a step to the left. She released the catch on the ladder, hearing it clatter as it fell to his level. “... you could come up. Though I should warn you that my stuff’s cheaper than what Ern has, in both cost _and_ quality.”

Darcy didn’t make a habit of inviting men she’d only met once before into her and Jane’s apartment, but Jane wasn’t going to be back until tomorrow night, and the man she was inviting up was _Steve Rogers_. If she couldn’t trust her virtue around _Captain America_ , what hope was there for anyone else?

Surprise lighting his eyes, Steve took a second to consider what she was offering. The idea of talking with Darcy in a crowded bar hadn’t been an ideal scenario, but leaping straight to drinks inside her apartment meant they’d be jumping several steps in between. Or it would have been when _he_ was growing up. Now there was no telling. “Are you sure?”

His hesitation was noted and while it was adorable, Darcy’s eyes narrowed softly. “You promise not to rob me?”

The laugh that huffed out of his chest was genuine. “I can promise that.”

“You have any allergies to animals?”

Steve directed a grin up at her. “I don’t think so. You’ve got a dog or cat up there?”

“No,” Darcy said with a shake of her head, “just figured we’d start the questions portion of the evening right away.”

Shaking his head in amusement, lips slanting, Steve looked up at her once more before he began climbing the ladder. When he made it to the landing, he brushed his hands off on his jeans, making a mental note to wash his hands at the first opportunity. “I really am sorry about the window.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Darcy said with an errant wave of her hand. “We’ll cover it with duct tape and tell Ernie one of the drunks did it. Wouldn’t be the first time.” She tossed the bat inside before bending and sliding inside the apartment. She turned back once she was inside, eyes widening when she realized the window was not particularly _large_ and Steve had some _wide_ , amazingly toned shoulders. “Here.”

Steve hesitated for a second before reaching through and taking her outstretched hand. He could see where the glint of glass shone from the floor and was careful not to disturb it, casting a glance around the interior as Darcy shut the window behind them. There was a small table in the kitchenette, somewhere beneath the stacks of books and papers piled atop it. A few threadbare blankets were tossed over couches that looked like they’d seen better days. It wasn’t particularly neat, but Steve had never had a problem with a little mess. “Your colleague lives here with you?”

“Colleague’s a loaded term. I mean, I _guess_ you could call her my boss. She handles most of the science stuff. Not that I don’t provide a well-needed service to her, we’re just smart in different ways. I’m going to grab some duct tape. The broom is in the closet there if you feel bad enough to help me clean it up.” 

When Steve immediately turned toward the closet to retrieve the broom, Darcy grinned as she made her way down the hall and further into the apartment. When she was out of sight, her movements switched to something more manic. In a rush, she darted into the bathroom, closing the door quietly before grabbing her toothbrush and giving her mouth a good brush and quick rinse, followed by a few seconds of mouthwash. 

After spitting, she lifted her arm and took in a deep breath, deciding she didn’t need to throw on more deodorant. Running a brush through her hair did little to solve the craziness of her waves but she didn’t have enough time to do more. Retrieving the duct tape from her dresser, Darcy made her way back to where she’d left him.

Steve did his best to get what glass he could see, but it was made harder by the horrible faded faux tile in the small dining area. His eyes swung toward Darcy when she reappeared, a roll of tape in hand. “Do you have any bread?”

Darcy’s steps slowed, her eyebrows knitting together at his question. “Uh, you want me to make you a sandwich?”

Laughing softly, not sure how she’d made that jump and uncertain why her face had screwed up at the idea, Steve shook his head. “No, I just need a slice of bread to pick up any glass bits I didn’t get.”

“You can use a slice of bread for that?” Surprised, Darcy crossed to a cabinet to retrieve what he’d asked for. 

“Yeah, if the bread is soft enough it’ll do the job.” When she held out a slice in his direction, he took it then crouched, carefully running it over the floor.

She knew she should have averted her gaze, but Darcy’s head cocked to the side as she stared at Steve’s ass. His dark jeans were stretched tight, highlighting everything in the best ways, and she watched the shirt he wore ripple - it actually fucking _rippled_ \- as the muscles shifted under the fabric.

_Gotdamn. I said **gotdamn**._

Satisfied that he’d gotten everything, Steve stood and turned, watching Darcy bite her lower lip, eyes pointed toward the floor. “You okay?”

“Nuhwhat?” Darcy blinked, the thoughts she’d had running through her head stealing her focus, pulled out of the pretty quagmire at his voice. “Sorry, huh?”

“I think I got it all.”

“Spiffy. Um, hold on.” 

Darcy retrieved the garbage can from the kitchen and helped Steve empty the glass shards and sparkly slice of bread inside. It only took a few seconds to slap two pieces of duct tape over the glass, and before long, they were left standing in the kitchenette, hands on their hips as they surveyed their work. “Not too shabby.”

“If Ernie’s upset -”

“I’m pretty sure that gnarled barman is unflappable and incapable of being upset. Annoyed? Most definitely. Angry? I’ve seen him scare drunks off with a look. But upset? Nah. He’ll be fine.” For the first time since she invited him up, Darcy felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach. It didn’t make sense. She’d done _remarkably well_ when it came to speaking with Steve Rogers the previous week.

Considering who he was and what he’d done, it was enough to make _anyone_ dazzled and put off. She had an inkling, though, that the reason he’d sought her out in the first place was her lack of artifice, which she’d cultivated in spades while being around Thor. She had to wonder how lonely it was to be surrounded by people that “knew” you but, at the same time, had no idea who _you_ were. If Steve was lonely, Darcy would happily volunteer to fill some of his time. “I’m nowhere near as good as Ernie, but I could make you a drink?”

“Alright.” Steve didn’t have the heart to tell her that alcohol would do nothing for him, but as _he’d_ been the one to suggest they have a drink, he couldn’t really go back on it now. As he watched her move around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and gathering the needed supplies, he shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over one of the chairs at the tiny kitchen table.

Taking a slow lap around the room, Steve’s eyes flicked from place to place, getting a better picture of who Darcy was. Most of the paperwork seemed to be some sort of chicken scratch, pages filled with numbers and algebraic formulas, and even though he’d always been good with math in school, he knew better than to try and solve them. “What does your colleague teach?”

Darcy smiled to herself, charmed that he continued to refer to Jane as such when she’d all but told him it wasn’t an equal partnership. “Astrophysics,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. He’d crossed to the bookshelf that held a mishmash of large, hardcover books that Jane refused to put in storage and made them tote during every move.

“Wow,” Steve said, eyebrows raising toward his hairline. He pulled one of the books free and thumbed through it. Something fluttered out from between the pages and fell to the floor. He crouched, picking it up with a grimace, hoping it wasn’t supposed to be keeping someone’s page. He meant to push it back, but something about it caught his eye.

It was a set of four black and white photos in a strip, like they’d come from one of those photo booths that had been around since even _he’d_ been a kid. He recognized Darcy - her dark hair, full lower lip, bright eyes - and he could only assume the person she had her arms around was the astrophysicist she shared the apartment with.

Darcy reached up to grab two coffee mugs, which were the only thing they had to drink out of, but her hand paused. She’d reflexively grabbed for her favorite mug, which was in the shape of Mjolnir, but as she was trying to _downplay_ the fact that she knew the Norse god, she thought better of it. Pushing it toward the back, she grabbed two from the small cafe in New Mexico, poured her concoction into both, and then crossed to where Steve was standing. “Whatcha got there?”

Steve nearly dropped the book in his hand, realizing he’d been staring at the pictures with a smile on his face. “Oh, yeah, sorry, this fell out of one of them books and I’m not sure where…” He stopped when Darcy pulled the photos from his hand and held one of the mugs out toward him.

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile, “she has a habit of using anything nearby as a bookmark, but she doesn’t really _need_ one because she has some weird scientist-eidetic memory when it comes to books. She won’t even notice.” Throwing the strip onto the coffee table, Darcy crossed to the sofa and took a seat, watching as Steve held his mug in both hands and turned toward her.

It was almost adorable, the slight uncertainty that tightened his shoulders. She remembered Thor talking about Steve Rogers before, about how great of a warrior he was, a brilliant leader, but she knew there had to be more to the man standing in front of her with pink tinting his cheeks. “I’m sorry we don’t have more seating except -”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Her words spurred him to action and Steve crossed the small living room, taking up the seat on the other end of the couch. He went to set his drink on the coffee table, but paused. “Do you have any coasters?”

The laugh that bubbled up Darcy’s throat was bright, and she couldn’t help the smile that stayed on her face. “Oh, damn. You’re adorable. Coasters. Rings on wood are the least of our worries.” The soft grin he gave her words, and the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, had her biting her lower lip, feeling the slight awkwardness press on both of them the longer they just stared at each other.

Feeling out of sorts and falling back onto her less tactful instincts, Darcy took a large gulp from her mug, nose crinkling when she realized _how much rum_ she’d added. She swallowed hard then gave him a nod of her head. “Had anyone else try to take a picture of your junk since the last time you were here?”

Steve chuckled, experimentally bringing the drink she’d made him to his lips. He could _smell_ the alcohol before he tasted it, and he did his best to cover the grimace it earned. “Not that I know of.” When her lips curled up into a smile, he watched her take another drink, hazel eyes shining over the rim of her mug. “Meeting new people is… hard.”

Darcy nodded, pulling her legs under her body and leaning against the arm of the couch behind her. “Probably double for you, I’d imagine. But you’re right. Dating is the worst. They call it a battlefield, or at least that song does, and I don’t think she was far off. It’s why I kind of stopped.”

Unsure why a small tendril of disappointment rang in his head at her words, Steve looked down at his mug, a soft smile on his lips. She’d assumed he was out there looking for a date, and while that was one of the options that might have appeared down the road, hearing her dismissal of the idea was disheartening. “Oh.”

Feeling like she’d said something _completely stupid_ , Darcy rushed to fill in the silence that followed Steve’s response. “I mean, not that I _wouldn’t_ , it’s just hard because we move around so much, and it’s hard to do the long distance thing. Technology is great and all, and I’m sure it’s worked for some people, but I just don’t think it’s for me. If I was going to dive into something I’d want it to be with someone who was _there_ , you know?”

Steve took another drink, feeling it burn as it hit his tongue and throat. “Distance is hard.”

When another few seconds of awkward silence filled the small apartment, Darcy reached out to poke his shoulder with her finger, giving him an encouraging smile. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t come up here to talk about sad stuff, Rogers.”

Letting out a huff of breath, Steve nodded and looked down at the mug in his hands. “I’m not exactly sure what I came to talk about.”

“But you came anyway.” When he looked up at her with a smile, Darcy matched it with one of her own. 

Feeling buoyed, Steve leaned back against the couch, turning so he faced her more. “You were… nice.”

“Yay?”

Laughing, one of Steve’s shoulders lifted and fell. “It’s hard. I thought that girl -” Darcy made a gagging sound, eliciting another chuckle from him “...most people don’t really want to hear me talk, they just want -”

“A photo op? Something to post on facebook? The shield and the costume?”

“Uniform.”

Darcy gestured in the air with her hand, leaning forward. “Yeah. Uniform. Whatever. They get stars in their eyes and it’s not just a reflection of the one you’ve got here.”

When she reached out to poke his chest again, Steve followed the length of her arm, noticing the blue nail polish she sported was chipped on almost every finger. Feeling her warmth as she rearranged herself on the couch, drawing closer, he nodded. “Something like that.”

“Well, you’re in luck because you might have found one of the only people in the city who _isn’t_ thrown by being around superheroes.”

Resisting the urge to sigh at the mention of being a ‘superhero,’ Steve’s eyebrows knit together when her words finally filtered to his brain. “Oh? Why’s that?”

 _Shit! Shit shit shit!_ It wasn’t like she was actively trying to _hide_ the fact that she knew Thor (though she kind of was), Darcy just didn’t want to seem like she was some kind of supergang slash Avenger slash powered person groupie. She was almost certain he’d take the news well, but he’d come looking for a _normal_ person with _normal_ friends who didn’t _normally_ wear capes and save the world on a daily basis.

“Let’s just say I’ve seen some shit,” she finally said, giving him a shrug of her shoulders. “We did a summer in London. There was a big black obelisk thing, world-endy stuff. It’s all over youtube. Seeing that kind of set my ‘impressed’ level pretty high.”

Steve remembered hearing something about a dark elf invading London during one of the parties at the Avengers tower, though Thor had been in the Asgardian ale by that point in the evening and his words had been semi-slurred and even more hard to follow. “I suppose that would do it.” When she smiled at him, Steve shifted under her gaze, relaxing a bit more into the sofa. “What were you doing in London?”

Glad that she wouldn’t have to lie anymore, Darcy gestured toward the pile of papers on the table. “Same thing we’re doing here. Classes. Research. Etcetera, etcetera.”

“But you came back home?”

“A near death experience kind of soured the trip, and it seemed like a good enough reason to jet.”

Steve watched her take another sip of her drink, hoping his questions hadn’t brought up any tough memories. “And you’ll be leaving sometime soon?”

“Most likely. She gets back tomorrow and has a meeting with someone. She didn’t tell me much. But yeah, we’ll probably be wrapping up stuff here and moving on to the next big adventure.”

“Oh,” Steve said with a nod, gaze flicking down to his mug again.

“Why ‘oh’?” When his blue eyes swung back to her, Darcy couldn’t help but wonder if she’d seen a hint of disappointment tinting his gaze. 

“I just mean, oh, that’ll be amazing for you. And her. It’s good to have work, and it sounds like you guys are in demand, which is nice.”

She could tell he was trying to fill in the silence, and the fact that he was doing it at all made a smile split her lips. “Hey, I don’t _want_ to talk about work. You talk. Tell me things you’ve never been able to tell one of us normies. Most people don’t really want to listen to you? Well, I do. And hey! You’ll probably never see me again, so that’s gotta take the edge off, right?”

Charmed by her words, and the way they’d been put together, Steve laughed, nodding his head in her direction. “You’ve got me there. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“How about we start here? What made you choose Ernie’s bar instead of one of the other thousand bars in a three mile radius?”

Steve set his drink down on the coffee table, more than happy to drop the pretense that he was actually enjoying it. Darcy was right about being able to talk to her, but it wasn’t because he’d never see her again; for the first time in awhile, Steve watched someone blink at him with honest interest in their eyes, an engaged mind behind that hazel gaze. It wasn’t colored with expectation, or the intention to use the information he gave for any kind of secondhand purpose, but a quiet confidence that put him at ease.

“I actually didn’t grow up too far from here, just a few blocks. This used to be a butcher shop, one my mother went to every Monday after work at the hospital…”

***

Darcy wasn’t sure when it happened, but when she blinked and glanced toward the duct-taped window, she caught the sun as it began to brighten the sky outside. She shifted her feet, pulling her toes from where they’d been tucked under Steve’s thigh, twisting so she could see the clock on the oven. “Fuck, it’s already seven?”

Surprised, Steve followed her line of sight, eyes widening softly. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist, as if the clock on the stove was somehow wrong. There was no way they’d been talking for almost nine hours, an entire new day dawning without either of them realizing it, but the truth of it was there in blinking green numbers. “I’m sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

“Hey, you’re not the only one.” Lifting her arms above her head and stretching, Darcy laughed when she heard several vertebrae pop, Steve’s chuckle joining hers. As she’d regaled him with stories of being a lab monkey and pseudo-personal assistant to one of the most oblivious people she’d ever met, that laughter had split the air countless times, seeing the blue in his eyes grow brighter bit by bit. “I hope you didn’t have any important world-saving type things going on today that required sleep.”

Grinning, he shook his head. For the first time since he’d met her, Steve watched the sun glow on Darcy’s face, the burnt-orange color making her eyes look like fire. He found himself wanting to linger, to stay with her. “I’ve got nothing that can’t be rescheduled. Did you want to get break -”

Like a dog hearing a whistle, Darcy's face fell as she heard someone jiggle the doorknob to her front door. She twisted in her seat, eyes widening as the dulcet tones of Jane's voice, low and talking to herself, slipped under the door. "Oh god." 

Steve had watched Darcy's facial expressions, trying to understand the journey she'd made. "What's wrong?"

"She's home early," Darcy breathed, pulling her feet from Steve's lap and climbing to stand, her voice in hushed tones. "You have to go."

Eyebrows lifting, Steve slowly made it to his feet. "What?"

"The warden. I'm not allowed to have guys in here."

Steve blinked at her. "Really?"

" _No_ ," Darcy hissed, reaching for his shoes, hoodie, and jacket. He'd slowly shed his clothing over the course of the night and she gathered what she could and closed the distance between them. She pushed him back toward the window. "I don't really want to explain why there's a disheveled Steve Rogers in our apartment. We've got less than two minutes before she actually finds her keys in the bottom of her bag. You'll have to go out the window."

"Darcy -"

She smacked his clothing against his chest before wrenching open the window. "Go!"

Feeling like he'd been swept into some weird tornado of clothes, whispers, and dark hair, Steve ducked and made his way onto the fire escape. In the rush, he managed to fumble one of his shoes over the railing and watched it drop to the wet alley below.

Heart beating fast, Darcy watched Steve turn back to her with a frown. His blond hair was messy, blue eyes bright despite the fact that they hadn't slept, and before her brain was able to catch up or create a reason _not_ to, Darcy grabbed the front of his t-shirt and yanked him closer.

He’d barely had enough time to take in a breath before Darcy’s lips were pressed against his. The clothes in Steve’s hands were forgotten, falling near his socked feet. She was warm, and soft, and his hand lifted to cup her cheek as the kiss deepened. He didn’t taste the alcohol on her tongue, as it’d been finished so early in their evening, which meant the flavor he tasted was _her_ , and he drank it happily.

When she heard keys in the door, Darcy reluctantly pulled back. His stupidly-long eyelashes brushed along his cheeks as he opened his eyes and blinked at her, surprise in his blue gaze. The grin on her face grew the longer she looked at him, unkempt and rumpled. “See ya later, Stars and Stripes.”

Though it _pained_ her to tear her eyes away, Darcy closed the window and then the curtains, hiding the blond from sight. She turned around just in time to see Jane push through the door, wheeling her carry-on at her side. “You’re early,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the window frame, doing her damndest to appear nonchalant.

“Caught an earlier flight.”

“How’s Vigs?”

“Better. The work he’s doing is amazing. Darcy, the way he’s tying everything together just means I’m _this_ much closer to figuring all of it out. If his hypothesis is correct, it means ...”

Darcy crossed to the couch and took a seat, listening as her best friend attempted to explain what she’d learned. She loved Jane, _so much_ , but the woman could forget that her pseudo-assistant didn’t speak the same kind of geek. Nodding, Darcy let her head lull back on the couch, eyes following Jane as she paced from one end of the room to the other.

"Did you have someone over?"

Head perking up, Darcy’s eyes widened. "Huh? Why? What?"

Jane pointed to the coffee table. "There are two mugs."

Darcy's brain spun. She wasn't exactly sure _why_ she didn't want anyone to know that she'd spent a completely chaste, completely _incredible_ night talking with Steve Rogers. _Part_ of her repeated the idea that she didn't want to be seen as some kind of Avenger groupie; she knew Thor, and that was more than enough for most people to raise an eyebrow at. 

Another part of her said that Steve Rogers was massively in the public eye, and she wanted none of that. She liked being a no one. She liked not having to tell her story or have other people assume they knew who and what she was doing. Helping Jane with her work was more than fulfilling and she didn’t need to add being famous to her resume.

But even another part, a small, delicious part that was buried down deep… it liked knowing that the night they'd shared was theirs, just theirs, and putting it out there for other people to know would erase from of its importance and would ruin what they'd had. He was just Steve Rogers. She was just Darcy Lewis. And no one else needed to know what had happened. She and Jane would be moving on to the next job, the next researching gig, and Darcy wanted one small nugget of time that she could look back on and smile. She'd learned more about Steve Rogers than any book could have told her, and that was enough.

 _He’d_ been enough.

“Uh, I was going to clean up before you got home. You know how messy I can be.”

Jane’s eyes narrowed softly. “Why are you acting weird?”

“I’m not acting weird.”

“Yes you are.”

“Weird how?”

“You just…” Jane lifted her hand, trying to come up with a reason why something felt off, but let the arm drop back to her side. “Forget it. I’m just really tired.”

“Go shower and sleep. I’ll clean up in here. You still have that interview at seven-fifteen?”

“Yeah. They wanted to meet downtown at the library.”

“Fancy,” Darcy said, rising to her feet. She moved around Jane, anticipating the jacket the scientist shrugged off and the shoes she toed out of. “You want something to eat? I could make you something.”

“No, thanks, I’m going to pass out for a few hours. I’ll shower later. Will you -”

“Wake you up at three so you can get ready? I already have an alarm set.” She ushered Jane down the hall and toward her bedroom. When the astrophysicist collapsed face down on the mattress, Darcy pulled the door shut and made her way back toward the living room. Biting her lip, she crossed to the window and took a deep breath before grabbing the curtains and throwing them open.

Uncertain why she felt a sting of disappointment at _not_ seeing him there on the fire escape, Darcy opened the window and let the sounds of the morning drift in. The longer she thought about the time she’d spent with Steve, the bigger her grin grew. Rolling her eyes, reminding herself that they’d most likely be overseas within the next week or two, Darcy set about her usual routine, oddly energized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other people may see your pain and try to reduce it.  
> "There are a lot of people out there worse off"  
> "You don't have a reason to be depressed"  
> "You think your problems are bigger than anyone elses?"  
> Don't listen to them,  
> You have a right to express your pain, regardless if anyone else understands.  
> Your pain is not worth less than anyone else's.  
>  _You_ are not worth less than anyone else.  
> Look at how brave you are, going out in the world.  
> Your shoulders are so strong,  
> and though the weight may drag you down,  
> it will never _keep_ you down.  
> Become Icarus, this time with steel wings.  
> Look how you soar!  
> 


	8. Move Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve discuss the previous night's activities. Jane and Darcy meet their mystery emailer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Lovely souls.  
> Thanks to antibiotics, the strep is gone!  
> (As well as the ear and sinus infection that came along with it)  
> Spring is springing and when I wake up in the morning it's not dark anymore.  
> I've got a vacation next week (AND OMG OMG OMG END GAME) and I'm _so pumped_.  
> ... but it means there'll be no chapter next week (4/22), and I'll be posting chapter 9 on 4/30.  
> We'll be back to our regular Monday!posting schedule on May 6th!  
> ((If you'd like, I'll probably be flailing about End Game on my tumblr and twitter, links at bottom!))  
> <3 <3 <3  
>   
>   
> 

_When you move_  
_I can recall somethin' that's gone from me_  
_When you move_  
_Honey, I'm put in awe of somethin' so flawed and free_  
_So move me, baby_  
_Shake like the bough of a willow tree_  
_You do it naturally_  
_Move me, baby_  
_So move me, baby_  
_Like you've nothin' left to prove_  
_And nothin' to lose_  
_Move me, baby_  


**Movement - Hozier**

Steve pushed into his and Bucky’s rooms, jacket folded over his arm, dropping his soaked tennis-shoes on the rug just inside the door. The skies had quickly turned from sunny morning sunshine to late autumn downpour, and while he could have just gotten a taxi back to the tower, he’d used the walk to reflect on the night he’d had.

He couldn’t really explain the feeling in his chest. It was something like happiness, but it was quiet, like it was whispering, hoping not to spook him. Darcy had been kind, and funny, and warm. She’d listened to him talk with no sense of urgency, never making him feel like he was overstaying his welcome. Getting booted and pushed out of the door (or window) had been a bit of a shock, but it was when her lips pressed against his that had sent him reeling.

Part of him understood why it’d been so easy talking to her. She’d said it at the beginning of the night; there was the very probable chance that her job would take her elsewhere and he’d never see her again. It had taken the edge off, but that wasn’t it. There’d been something else there, underneath the jitters of wanting to make a good impression.

Darcy had never looked at him with expectations. Too often, Steve felt the pressure to perform, to live up to his name and call sign, to carry the shield and act accordingly, but with her, it hadn’t mattered. He’d told her some stories, of course, of the action he’d seen in the war, and how he was still marveling at how much the world had changed, but those weren’t the ones she asked for most of the time. Most of the time she’d wanted to know the _normal_ things, like what else in the neighborhood had once been a jewelers, or a pharmacy, or a restaurant. She’d listened to him recount tales of his mother, and his father before the war, and his favorite subjects in school.

When he’d talked about how cold his feet had always been, she’d commiserated, asking if it would be okay if she tucked her toes under his thigh to keep them warm. She’d reached out and squeezed his arm when he went quiet, telling how his mom had passed and how he’d thought it was his fault, seeing real pain and sympathy reflected in her eyes. She’d, somehow, been exactly what he’d needed. Darcy had been proof that there _were_ people out there worth getting to know. She’d relit that hope within him, and he felt another grin curl his lips.

“Did you find her?”

Steve looked up, seeing Bucky in the doorway to their bedroom, covered in sweat like he’d just got done working out. There was a smirk on his best friend’s face, a knowing glint in his eyes. Steve knew better than to say anything but the truth. “Yeah.”

“Had a good time?”

“Yeah.” Steve left him standing there and crossed to the fridge.. He’d hoped to grab breakfast with her, still surprised they’d talked the entire night through, but his impromptu push onto the fire escape had dashed those plans. Thinking back to the fire escape, and the way she’d tasted, forced another grin on his face.

There was something about the way Steve was holding himself that meant he wasn’t getting the whole story, but Bucky didn’t want to push. He didn’t want details, only to be sure that Steve hadn’t been put off by the whole situation. “Seeing her again?”

“No.” When he looked over at Bucky, there was a question in the other man’s eyes. “She’s leaving soon. Probably out of the country.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t the answer Bucky had been looking for, but he could see the hope in Steve, and that was enough. “But it was good?”

“Yeah.”

“See?” Bucky asked, moving closer, giving Steve a knowing look. “You can do this.”

Steve took a large drink from the bottle of water before pulling out the almond milk, reaching into the cabinet for his protein powder. “It still feels weird. How are you okay with this?”

Seeing the opportunity, Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve. “Would you be okay with _me_ finding someone else?”

The question making him pause, Steve set down the milk carton and blinked down at the countertop. Growing up, Bucky had gone on plenty of dates, had even managed to drag Steve out on a few and made it a double, but Steve had understood. He’d never gotten mad at Bucky for going out on date because… “Fuck.”

The quiet expletive fell from Steve’s lips, and Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the marble as he watched the reality hit Steve’s brain. “It was fine because -”

“Because they gave you things I couldn’t,” Steve finished, looking up at Bucky with a sigh. “Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?”

“I didn’t really put two and two together either, not until I talked to Natasha.” When Steve’s eyebrow lifted, Bucky grinned. “She came looking for me, punk, not the other way around. And when she opened my eyes, I figured it’d be better for you to work it out on your own. You’d have fought me just on principle.”

Looking at Bucky, finally able to put the pieces together, Steve felt like an idiot. And on the heels of that thought, was the truth that Bucky could be doing the exact same thing. “You know, you could go out -”

Bucky snorted. “Really? You gonna tell me I could go out and find someone else? I barely leave the tower. How the hell would I find someone else?”

“You could still try.”

The fact that Steve was extending the same understanding made love thump heavy in Bucky’s chest. Looking into those hopeful eyes, it was hard for Bucky to hold onto the dark thoughts that whispered he’d never be ready. “Maybe when I’m better.”

“You _are_ better.”

“I’m not there yet,” Bucky said, no hint of anger in his voice, but soft disagreement. “Maybe someday.”

“And when that happens,” Steve reached out and pulled Bucky toward him, “I’ll be there beside you, happy because you’re happy.”

“Right back at ya, punk.” Bucky pressed his lips to Steve’s, hands trailing down the other man’s arm, until he could thread their fingers together and squeeze. The look in Steve’s gaze said enough, and he pulled back with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll make you something to eat. You can’t subsist on protein powder alone.”

After he’d pulled out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon, Bucky watched Steve take a seat at the island, eyes tracking him as he moved around the kitchen. When the eggs were scrambled and the bacon was almost done, he glanced over his shoulder at Steve. “You liked her?”

“Yeah, I did,” Steve said, unable to keep the sigh of wistfulness form his voice, “I really did.”

Bucky smiled and turned back to the pan, a grin turning his lips. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

“Oh, you dropped one.” Darcy sped her steps, bending over to grab the book from the floor. She straightened and held it out toward the man, who had to have been at least ninety-years old. He looked like he’d been working at the library since it’d been built. In 1911. Darcy’d always loved vintage things, so when he gave her a bright smile, she matched it with one of her own.

As he turned back to his task, Darcy fell back into the seat beside Jane, watching the astrophysicist bring her hand to her mouth. “Janey, I _will_ pull out handcuffs to keep you from biting your nails. Don’t make me use the bitter apple spray.” When she saw her best friend shift and her hand drop to her lap, Darcy felt a flash of victory. “Remind me why they wanted to meet _here_ again?”

“I don’t know,” Jane said with a shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulder. “We spoke months ago, in an email. It was all a bit clandestine.”

“ _Oooh_ , big word,” Darcy grinned, hazel eyes flicking over to Jane, “what do you mean?”

“Well, they never gave me a name, just said that they desperately wanted to speak with me about a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity. When I told them I was already under contract at the university, they set this up. Wanted to meet with me as soon as possible.”

“That’s a little sketchy, right? I mean, they didn’t even give you a name? Used a bogus email address?” When Jane nodded, Darcy sat higher in her chair, turning toward the scientist with wide eyes and a gasp. “What if it’s the mob?”

Jane raised an eyebrow at her. “What would the mob need an astrophysicist for?”

“Like you said: clandestine stuff. Maybe instead of people ‘swimming with the fishes’ they want them to ‘tumble through space never to be seen again’.”

As if this was a perfectly normal conversation they had every day, Jane gave the thought a second of consideration before shaking her head. “I don’t know. It’s a _job_ opportunity and they were willing to wait until we were done at Berkley, they must want me pretty badly.”

“You’re a hot commodity,” Darcy said with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows at her best friend. “Everybody wants a piece of the Janester.” When Jane’s nose crinkled up in disgust at the name, Darcy sat back in her chair. Her line of thought had taken Jane’s mind from the anxiety that made her bite her cuticles. Darcy’d been navigating Jane’s mannerisms for so long that it was like second nature. Distracting Jane and telling her when to shower, eat, and sleep were only four of the things she did on a daily basis for her boss slash collegue slash friend.

With a frown, Jane turned her wrist and glanced at her watch. “They’re kind of late.”

“Welp, that’s one point against them. Who sets up a meeting months ago while sounding thirsty but doesn’t show up on time? Rude people, that’s who. Obviously they don’t understand how much fucking _value_ you cram into that tiny body of yours.”

Rolling her eyes, Jane opened her mouth to respond when the doors to their right opened and a man stuck his head out. Both women’s eyes widened comically when they recognized the dark hair and trademark smirk on Tony Stark’s face. “Dr. Foster, we’re ready for you.”

When he disappeared back into the room and the door hushed close behind him, Darcy and Jane looked at each other with bare shock on their faces. Darcy was the first to speak. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me!? That was Tony Stark!”

“I know.”

“Janey, that was Tony _fucking_ Stark! Tony Stark knows your name! _Tony Stark_ wants you to work with him!”

There was an appropriate level of surprise in Jane’s eyes, which shifted more toward horror. “Jesusohgod, do I look okay? I would have worn something nicer if I’d known -”

Darcy reached out and grabbed Jane’s hand when she lifted it toward her mouth, stopping the inevitable cuticle chomping. “You’re fine. I mean, holy fucking hell, but you’ll be fine. You’re brilliant. You’re a _literal_ genius. They’re lucky you’re even taking time out of your schedule to meet with them.”

Jane blinked at her. “Did you believe any of what you just said?”

“Of course. Look at it this way: they waited months for you to meet with them. Whatever the job is, they obviously _need_ you. You should make them sweat a little.”

Lifting her arm, Jane took a quick sniff, frowning. “ _I’m_ already sweating.”

Darcy’s hands dug into her overly-large bag, deftly pulling out a travel-size deodorant and thrusting it toward Jane. “You’re good. You’re amazing. You’re a mother fucking Science Goddess, and they’re lucky you’ve agreed to come off your well-earned pedestal to treat them with your presence. You’ve got this.”

“Whatever _this_ is,” Jane said as she rose to her feet, smoothing hands down the soft blouse she wore. “Do I really look okay?”

Rising to her feet as well, Darcy put both of her hands on Jane’s shoulders, dipping her head so the brunette had to look in her eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Now go knock their fucking socks off.” Jane seemed to accept her words, throwing her a half-hearted thumbs up before she pushed through the doors. 

Darcy leaned to the left, eyes glancing over Jane’s shoulder as she entered, spotting a second dark-haired man sitting at the table with Stark. Blinking when the door shut, Darcy turned with wide eyes, running a hand through her hair in a nervous gesture. She honestly had _no idea_ why Tony Stark would want to hire Jane, but _whatever_ it was, she had no doubt her best friend was up to the task.

As the minutes drug on, Darcy tried keeping herself busy. She’d read the latest issue of People (with a full page spread hypothesizing what kind of flowers would be centerpieces at the date-yet-to-be-set Stark/Potts wedding), gone through her five lives in Candy Crush, and was attempting to focus on the book in her hands, but every five seconds her eyes would swing toward the door to her right, wondering what this was all about. 

Realizing she was _not_ above eavesdropping, Darcy tossed her book aside and tip-toed toward the door to the conference room. She pressed her ear to the wood, but was only to make out muffled words, none of which made much sense. 

“ _As for turks… tire flood in the power… all gidgets and gas masks you’d ever mead … room and curd … off books …_ ”

Sighing with frustration, Darcy took a knee, putting her ear closer to the keyhole. When the old man and his cart from earlier squeaked by, tossing her a look that clearly said he thought she was acting crazy, Darcy made several hand gestures in a form of explanation, but ended up just shrugging her shoulders and deciding she would own up to her less-than-adultish behavior. Luckily, this new position meant she could actually hear what was being said inside the room.

“ _Okay,_ ” Jane said, her voice sounding confused. “I still don’t know why my research would interest Stark Industries.”

“We think it holds promise,” Stark said. “It’s a little under-developed, but you’ve only been able to do what you could afford. Imagine what you could do with unlimited resources.”

Jane’s tone was disbelieving. “Unlimited?”

“Relatively unlimited.”

“Under contract?”

“Indeterminable.”

“Meaning you could pull funding at any time. That’s a lot of uncertainty.”

“As I said, the funding will be off the books. Dark money.”

“Also not entirely stable.”

“You won’t find a better opportunity, Dr. Foster. Our interest in your work is completely honest. We don’t want to weaponize your research or use it to further our own interests. You won’t find a lot of people who feel the same. I know funding for theoretical physics is competitive and hard to come by. Believe me when I say our wanting to work with you is entirely sincere.” 

Darcy’s brows furrowed, trying to place the man’s voice. He was quieter and less flippant than Stark, but held the same level of intent. The room went quiet for a few beats and Darcy heard the squeak of a chair being shifted in. A grin lifted her lips, knowing it was Jane squirming. She loved her best friend something fierce, but the older woman had a handful of tells; she was about to attempt to barter, despite how horrible she was at it. Darcy grimaced and steeled herself for the awkwardness.

“I’ll need my assistant. She’s invaluable.”

Darcy’s heart sung, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling. Jane Foster had told Tony Stark that she was invaluable. She was almost positive she’d never felt as much unbridled pride at those words, and she let that happiness sit in her chest.

“Sure.”

“And we’ll need to have Erik Selvig as a consultant.”

“Uh, Didn’t he go a bit coocoobananas?”

Scrambling to her feet, righteous indignation flashing through her body, Darcy pushed into the conference room, three sets of eyes swinging to look at her with varying levels of surprise. _No one talks dick about Vigs and gets away with it._ “Hey! You don’t get to talk about Selvig, especially after what was done to him. _Helping_ you guys is what put him on Loki’s radar in the first place!”

Jane let the air out of her lungs slowly, gesturing in her best friend’s direction. “This is my assistant.”

When Tony and the other man looked at her, blinking, Darcy realized she _did_ know the other man at the table. Bruce Banner. She was almost positive that Jane had a shrine to the scientist somewhere in her room. As they continued to look at her with expressions of expectation, Darcy cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. “Right. _What’s_ happening right now?”

Tony sat back in his seat, an amused spark in his dark eyes. “We were just telling your boss -“

“Colleague,” Jane corrected, interrupting Stark. She smiled when Darcy pointed a beaming grin her way.

“Right,” Tony said with a soft roll of his eyes. “We were just telling your _colleague_ that you’d have an entire floor for your research, including all the equipment you’d require, but that you’d have to live in-house. We have several living quarters on the upper floors of Avengers Tower. Fully furnished.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “Wait, we’d be _living_ with the Avengers?”

Bruce cleared his throat, re-adjusting his glasses. “Not _all_ of us live there, but yes. Having you in the tower grants us full security and guarantees the research doesn’t leak.” 

Looking over at Jane, Darcy was sure her face said _exactly_ how thrown she was by this development. “Fuck,” she breathed, surprise dripping in her tone, able to see matching disbelief in the astrophysicist. 

Tony sat forward in his chair, looking back and forth between the pair. “Is that a yes?”

Jane brought a hand to her mouth and coughed into it, sitting up in her chair and straightening her spine. “I’ll need to discuss this with my colleague.”

“Of course,” Bruce said, giving her a soft nod.

“Could you give us the room?”

Darcy’s eyes widened at Jane’s words, her gaze swinging to watch Stark raise one dark eyebrow before looking over at Banner, mirroring Bruce as they both climbed to their feet and made their way out of the room. When it was just the two of them left, Darcy practically collapsed into the seat beside Jane. “ _Oh my god_ , Janey, what is even _happening_ right now?”

Jane’s hand reached out for Darcy’s, their fingers threading together, breath bursting out of her mouth as she let go of the careful composure she’d been holding onto for the past hour. “ _I know!_ They said that my latest research and hypothesis has promise.”

“Of _course_ it does!” Darcy squeezed Jane’s hand, her heart beat speeding as she considered what this opportunity meant. “Janey, this is everything you’ve ever wanted! No more begging to get grants, no more speaking gigs just to get enough scratch to buy a new analyzer…”

Nodding, Jane was glad Darcy was holding her hand, stopping her from destroying her nails and making them bleed. “I know. I can’t believe it. This is…”

Darcy nodded, letting the shock hang in the air. When a question popped into her head, she looked at Jane with an uncertain look on her face. “Why’d you make them step outside?”

“It’s a power move. I read about it in a book.”

The laugh that left Darcy’s mouth was light, and she clapped a hand over her mouth when it echoed off the marble walls in the large room. “You are the most brilliant person I know, Jane Foster, and I am _down_ for this.”

Jane grinned at Darcy, squeezing her hand again, stomach flipping with the possibilities. She glanced at the door. “Have we made them wait long enough? Should we call them back in?”

Darcy climbed to her feet and made her way toward the door. She stopped, looking back at Jane before her arms and legs flailed, a look of pure joy on her face when she saw Jane do the same. Taking a deep breath, she waited until Jane looked more composed and the badass scientist who warranted head-hunting by a billionaire. 

Wiping the excitement off her face, Darcy pulled open the heavy door, sticking her head out to find Banner and Stark in quiet conversation. They looked up at her in unison, and if she hadn’t been doing her damndest to appear nonchalant, she’d have laughed at the looks on their faces. “Were ready for you now.”

She let them pass by her to retake their seats, shooting Jane a thumbs-up sign behind their backs before rounding the table and sitting beside Jane, both women’s hands resting on the top of the table, fingers threaded and doing their best to scream ‘professional’.

Jane cleared her throat. “After heavy discussion, we have decided to conditionally accept your offer, but we have a few stipulations.”

Stark did not look surprised. “Of course you do.”

“Number one: we’ll make a list of equipment we’ll need and have it to you by end of the day.”

Bruce nodded. “Sure, whatever you need.”

“Number two: If it’s required we live in the tower, we’ll each need our own rooms. And bathrooms. No bunk beds.”

Tony snorted. “Seeing as you’re not ten-years-old, I think that could be arranged. Anything else?”

Darcy leaned forward. “We’ll need a good parking spot.”

Bruce frowned softly. “Do you have a car?”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess we’ll need one of those, too.” Darcy felt Jane shift to her left, as that _hadn’t_ been on the table previously, but she kept her unrepentant gaze on Tony. The man seemed to give her a calculating once over before he shrugged his shoulders.

“Anything else?”

Darcy and Jane looked at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes. When it seemed they’d come to a decision, they both turned back to Tony and Bruce, nodding. “No. I believe that about covers it,” Jane said, schooling her features.

“Perfect,” Tony said, climbing to his feet and pulling the glasses from where they’d been hung on the color of his t-shirt. “You get us that list and I’ll have my lawyer write up the contract.” He and Bruce rounded the table, reaching out to shake their hands. “Welcome to _Stark Industries_ , Dr Foster, and…”

She had no doubt that he knew her damn name, but Darcy couldn’t find it in her to be annoyed, not when they were being handed everything they’d ever wanted. “Darcy. Darcy Lewis.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Bruce said, glancing over at Tony when the other man squeezed his shoulder.

The second the doors hushed closed behind them, Darcy and Jane let out matching shrieks of excitement, grabbing and clutching at each other as they laughed breathlessly. “ _Janey!_ This is insane! Is he really going to give us a car?”

“Oh my god, I could ask for _anything_. A quantum analyzer.”

“An espresso machine.”

“An ultra-high vacuum chamber.”

“A lightsaber.”

“A Matrix-isolating spectrometer.”

“Backstage tickets to see Beyonce!”

“An Atomic force microscope.”

“That, too.” Throwing her arms around Jane, the grin on Darcy’s face was beaming. 

“I can’t believe we’re going to be living with the Avengers!”

The smile slipped from Darcy’s expression at Jane’s words. They’d be living with the Avengers. They would be _living_ with the _Avengers_. One of which was the hot ass specimen of a man she’d just shared a perfect night with. Who thought she’d been disappearing into the wild blue yonder, never to be seen again.

_Fuuuuuuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Flames._  
>  They can be regenerating, like a forest burned to make room for more growth.  
> They can be dangerous, stealing the air from our lungs and leaving us panting.  
> They can be fanned, to a fever pitch, until we feel nothing but the heat.  
> It's not the only element that can be good or bad, but it leaves its scars regardless.  
> I wish you _good_ flames, like a breath of fresh air, like a lungful of spring, like hope of good things to come.  
> I wish you relief from _bad_ flames, the ones that blister your skin and hurt with every movement.  
> The pain will ease. Scars are beautiful. You're like a dragon, gorgeous and regal and bigger than any of your problems.  
> Take in a deep breath.  
> Spew out the flames.  
> 


	9. Wide Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a month at _Stark Industries_ , Darcy feels like she's getting a handle on things... 
> 
> ... at least, until she has a chance meeting with someone in the private elevators...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> I survived.  
> Mostly.  
>  _I know_. I still can't process it all.  
> There are things that happened in _End Game_ that I already had *written* and _fuck_ if it wasn't satisfying.  
> And terrifying. And heartbreaking.  
> Fanfic is how I heal. I'm here, holding your hand, telling you we'll get through it.  
>  _Together._  
>  <3 <3 <3  
>   
>   
> 

_How long will I fly out until I listen_  
_Truth is I'm used to making it up on my own_  
_How long will I climb out I never listen_  
_I'm in remission_  
_How long will I say yes over my conscience_  
_Truth is I'm wasted before I take it all in_  
_How long will I blame it all on past life tragedy_  
_There's no remedy_  
_No more wide eyes_  
_I can't pretend_  


**Wide Eyed - Billy Lockett**

"It's going to be a chilly one, Mike. You gonna stay warm?" Darcy bent at the waist, her gloved hands rubbing the german shepherd's fur, a smile on her face as the dog's tongue lolled out of his mouth in happiness.

"He likes to cuddle on days like this."

"Something we both have in common," she said with a grin as she straightened, glancing down at Freddie's hands. She frowned, then pulled her gloves off, holding them out to the man. "Why don't you take these? I'm going to be inside most of the day."

Freddie shook his head, a proud smile on his face. "I'll be fine, Miss Darcy."

"I know you’d be fine, Fred, but it’d make me feel better knowing my friend is nice and toasty." She could tell the man was uncomfortable taking something from her, so she cocked her head to the side and gave him a smile. "How about this: you _borrow_ these today and if I need them, I'll ask for them back tomorrow. Sound like a deal?" 

After a moment of uncertainty, the man accepted the gloves, a beaming smile on his face. Darcy matched his with one of her own. "Alright. Now that _that's_ settled, you go get food for you and Mike and I'll stay out here with him." Hazel eyes following the man's journey into the coffee shop and toward the pastry display rack, Darcy crouched next to the dog, keeping a good grip on Mike's leash, but knowing the pup wouldn't go anywhere. He was a very loyal little man, and she whispered and coo'ed into his floppy ears, telling him what a good boy he was.

Since Darcy had moved into the Avenger's tower, she'd become friends with several of the coffee shop regulars, as well as the entire cafe's employees. When she'd heard that the full-service business offered free coffee and breakfast to anyone who asked, regardless of whether they could pay, she'd made it a point to greet the people outside. There were numerous homeless shelters around the city, but most of them only served a nighttime meal, and she knew for some that going without food for a full day was too difficult to manage. 

It was one of the reasons she frequented the shop every morning. When she saw that a large amount of homeless persons had companion animals, she'd suggested to the staff that they carry some food for them as well. Less than a week later, she watched as small baggies of food began to appear in people's hands. It was a little thing, but it meant the world to her _and_ the people who were being helped.

"What's the flavor today?" Darcy said as she straightened, hair blown by the wind as Freddie reappeared, a paper bag and coffee cup in hand.

"Spinach and cheese," he answered, gratefully taking the leash from her when she held it out. "It smells real good."

"Mmm, yeah it does. I'll see you same time tomorrow?"

"I'll be here!"

Running her hand over Mike's fur once more, Darcy pushed her way into the shop, the smell of fresh ground coffee and fluffy pastries wafting through the air. Feeling instantly more awake than she had two minutes prior, her thumb brushed over her phone, checking Jane's email for anything important. As she stood in line, she read the latest news stories, scrolling through twitter and generally acquainting herself with everything that had changed since she'd gone to sleep the night before.

In the month since she and Jane had been hired by _Stark Industries_ , she'd found it endlessly fascinating how often the company was in the press, and even more fascinated with the negative spin that was continually thrown their way. Not _her_ way, specifically, but _SI_ in general. Pepper Potts had taken the former arms-and-weapons conglomerate and turned it into something that worked toward and for peace. That was obvious to Darcy when she'd stumbled into philanthropic offices and been offered a tour, the secretary, Beverly, explaining everything that _Stark Industries_ was working on. The free coffee and breakfast downstairs was just the tip of the iceberg, and it'd made Darcy feel infinitely better working for them.

When her order was ready, she added honey and a hint of lemon juice to Jane's tea, and a dash of hazelnut to her coffee. She pushed her hair back and slipped in her ear buds, touching her watch to start her morning mix. As the crash of drums sounded in her ears, Darcy grabbed both cups and went through the inner door that led to the open foyer at the base of the tower. When the security guard behind the desk nodded at her, Darcy threw a wink her way, grinning when the woman smiled and rolled her eyes.

She passed the first bank of elevators; the majority of the ninety-three floor building housed _Stark Industries_ and their assorted offices, and the main elevators would give access to anything under floor eighty-two. In order to get higher, you had to have security clearance or be classified as an "Avengers-Related Employee". Darcy wasn't exactly sure she and Jane _qualified_ , but she hadn't cared enough to question it. So far it appeared that she was the only one that used the private elevatos this early in the morning, which was just fine with her, as she detested small talk and was more than happy to ride in silence and let her coffee and music prep her for the day.

Darcy was pretty happy with the way things had been going. Jane was in seventh heaven. Stark and Banner had kept up their end of the bargain, purchasing everything that had been on their list of needed equipment, cost obviously not a concern. Erik had visited once, though he'd stayed in the lab and not traveled anywhere else, his anxiety getting the best of him. Darcy had helped keep him calm, like she always did, and he'd left in a much better mood, promising that he'd be visiting again soon. Seeing him leave had been sad, but she understood. After what he'd been through, a little social anxiety was called for.

Glancing up at the camera that was fitted into the wall above the elevator, Darcy waited for it to scan her (or whatever it did to make sure that she was who she was supposed to be) and stepped into the car when the doors opened. The cups she was holding warmed her hands, and her head bobbed along with the beat in her ear, hips swaying from side to side. She took a sip from her coffee but hissed when it was a little too hot to drink just yet, shaking her head at herself because she'd _known_ it was too hot but had tried it anyway. As the song switched to something peppier, Darcy took a step back and lifted her arms over her head, executing a spin move as Michael Jackson _shamon'd_ in her ear.

_Hey pretty baby with the high heels on_  
_You give me fever like I've never, ever known_  
_You're just a product of loveliness_  
_I like the groove of your walk, your talk, your dress_  
_I feel your fever from miles around_  
_I'll pick you up in my car and we'll paint the town_  
_Just kiss me baby and tell me twice_  
_That you're the one for me_

Jane had stayed up most of the night, as she always did, and it fell to Darcy to ensure that the scientist got as least a _few_ hours of sleep before she was back at it again. It was how Darcy had grown up; her mother had been a nuclear physicist, and Darcy had done the same for her mom before she'd died. She supposed that was one of the reasons she'd applied for Jane's internship in the first place. It was familiar, and she knew she could help. Not in the _science_ aspect, but the data entry and personal scientific assistant skills she'd perfected. When Darcy got upstairs, she'd give Jane the sleepy-time tea with honey and lemon, and then usher her into bed. Then it would be a few hours of clean up and data entry until Jane would appear, looking better (and hopefully showered), and they'd make a plan of attack for the rest of the day.

It was a routine they'd followed for years, and even though the digs were _way_ fancier than what they were used it, Darcy'd found it easy to slip into old routines.

_I like the feelin' you're givin' me_  
_Just hold me baby and I'm in ecstasy_  
_Oh I'll be workin' from nine to five_  
_To buy you things to keep you by my side_  
_I never felt so in love before_  
_Just promise baby, you'll love me forevermore_  
_I swear I'm keepin' you satisfied_  
_'Cause you're the one for me_  


Which included humming along with MJ and doing the absolute _worst_ attempt at the moonwalk that had ever been seen. As she felt the elevator slowing, she echoed a high-pitched _yow_ and spun again, wild curls flying as she danced. Letting out a laugh, Darcy let her arms drop and turned toward the opened doors, a smile on her face. The expression wiped and she nearly dropped both cups when she came face to face with a very sweaty, metal-armed man who was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Cheeks heating, Darcy's eyes darted up toward the numbers above the doors and realized she hadn't made it to _her_ floor yet, but had stopped several floors below.

He seemed as put off as she was, and they shared a long look, neither of them wanting to be the first to move. She watched his jaw tighten, tracing a bead of sweat as it slid down the side of his neck and hit the white tank top he was wearing, which was drenched. Her gaze lingered on his metal appendage before it connected in her head and she realized who he was. Not wanting the awkward moment to drag on any longer, Darcy moved until her back hit the wall, giving him plenty of space to join her.

He hesitated, but after a few seconds, seemed to think better of waiting and stepped into the car, keeping his back to her. His metal arm reached out and hit a button, and Darcy tried to slow her speeding heart. She’d gotten used to being the only one awake this early in the morning, and being alone for the entire elevator ride. She knew who he was, and since he was standing directly in front of her but facing away, Darcy took the opportunity to look her fill.

Of _course_ she knew he was James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Captain America’s best friend. Former assassin. At least, she was almost _positive_ it was in the past tense. The New Accords spelled things out pretty clearly, and after his and Rogers’ names had been cleared, they’d kept a low profile. It’d been easy to forget that she lived in the building with true and honest _superheroes_. Even though she’d been around Thor, the whole thing still sounded absurd.

_The way you make me feel_  
_You really turn me on_  
_You knock me off of my feet_  
_Now baby_  
_My lonely days are gone_  


Thinking about superheroes made her think of bright blue eyes and a crooked smile. It’d been a month since she and Steve Rogers had shared their amazing night together. Okay, maybe ‘amazing night together’ was going a bit too far, but Darcy couldn’t help but think on that night and smile. They’d gotten along so well, and by the time the sun rose, she felt like she really _got_ who Steve Rogers was. He’d been funny, and kind, and you could have spread his wholesomeness like butter on toast.

When she and Jane had moved in, Darcy’d spent the first week peeking around every corner. She’d tried to come up with a reason why thinking about running into Steve now made her stomach flip, but the best she’d been able to come up with is that she wanted it to end on a high note; their conversation had been real, and perfect, and she thought if they spent any more time together, it would only be downhill. She realized that she couldn’t avoid him forever, and had adopted an attitude of indifference. Darcy knew she’d run into him eventually, and when they did, she’d figure out how to handle it in the moment.

_Ain't nobody's business,_  
_Ain't nobody's business_  
_Ain't nobody's business,_  
_Ain't nobody's business but_  
_Mine and my baby_  
_You really turn me on_  
_You knock me off of my feet_  
_Oh!_  
_My lonely days are gone_  


Darcy knew she was a horrible, terrible, superficial person, but she was finding it very hard to tear her eyes away from Barnes’ back. The tank top did nothing to hide his muscles, especially since the fabric was wet and clinging to him in the most gorgeous ways, and she let her eyes track along the ridge where skin met metal.

She wondered if it had hurt him, getting the new arm, and immediately rolled her eyes. Of _course_ it would have hurt. It’d been done to him against his will. And then he’d been tortured, and used, and abused. Some of his testimony had leaked (as it always did), and the facts of his history had turned her stomach. She felt shame build in her belly as she realized how she’d been treating him like some kind of pretty thing.

Oh, he was _very_ pretty, but he wasn’t a thing, and Darcy’s chin set in serious lines as she reminded herself that she took pride in how hard it was to ruffle her feathers when it came to super beings. It was one of the reasons that Steve had sought her out, after all, and seeing as Barnes was Steve’s best friend, she resolved to extend that unflappable umbrella to the former Sergeant. 

As the car came to a stop, Darcy opened her mouth to say hello, but before she’d even had a chance, he had darted out the slowly opening doors, the metal of his arm scraping loudly as he all but ran from the elevator. As the door hushed closed, she glanced at the panel on the wall. Barnes had gotten out on the floor directly below Jane’s lab and their living quarters. Shaking her head at herself, Darcy hit the ‘close door’ button and waited the thirty seconds it took to arrive at their floor.

Feeling proud that she hadn’t dropped their drinks during her impromptu dance session (or when she’d been surprised to turn and find the Winter Soldier watching the aforementioned dance session), Darcy turned and opened the door to their lab with her ass. She could hear classical music playing and it pulled her lips into a frown. 

It must have been a bad night.

“Janey?” When she didn’t get a reply (though experience told her she wouldn’t), Darcy sighed and began moving further into the lab. “ _Janey, Janey doo_ ,” she sing-songed, “ _where are you?_ ”

With a sigh, she moved further into the lab, fingers brushing over the metal work tables, looking for her best friend and/or boss. She came to a slow stop when her hazel eyes landed on a whiteboard that was covered in dry erase marker. There was a mismash of formulas, in five different colors, and her eyes widened as she saw the frantic speed at which Jane had written. The astrophysicist had pretty bad handwriting, but this was on a entirely new level. When she heard the shifting of paper, Darcy rounded the end of the countertop, finding Jane sitting on the floor, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she glared up at the whiteboard. “Jane?”

Startled, Jane jumped and gasped, gaze swinging to look up at Darcy. “Oh, Darcy, I’m sorry. You scared me.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that.” Darcy held out Jane’s tea and watched her boss take it gratefully. Darcy then turned her attention back to the board. “What new science have you discovered today, Ms. Foster?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Jane answered, shaking her head as her eyes were pulled to the board again. 

Darcy watched Jane bring the cup to her lips and take a sip before she pushed the piles of papers off her lap and held out a hand. Grabbing and pulling, Darcy was able to help Jane to her feet with a grunt. “Ok, what new science _didn’t_ you discover?”

“All of it. The background radiation should have given us a better idea of where to look, but all it’s done is make it more obscure.”

“Okay. Walk me through it.”

As Jane recounted the difficulties with their new batch of data, Darcy nodded her head, recognizing the mania that could sometimes slip into her best friend’s expression. Science wasn’t just a job for Jane, it was her _passion_. When answers were elusive, Jane had never let it stop her. She would pivot and move to the next theory, doing her hypothesizing and assumptions.

_It’s like they always say. When one door closes, another one opens. Except it’s probably not a wormhole, despite how much Jane **really** wants it to be._

When Jane trailed off, tired eyes blinking at the board as if it would have magically given her the answers she needed, Darcy slipped from the stool she’d sat on and crossed the floor. “Okay, time for bed.”

“But if I just -”

“Nope,” Darcy said, grabbing Jane’s forgotten tea and wrapping their arms together, “it’s bedtime. For at least…” Looking over at her friend, Darcy took in the dark bags and exhaustion in the whiskey of Jane’s eyes, “... at least five hours. Five hours minimum.”

For a split second, it looked like Jane was going to try and argue with her, but when Darcy gave her _The Face_ , she knew it would be a losing battle. Finally, the scientist let Darcy direct her toward their rooms. The routine was familiar and in no time, Jane had stripped to her t-shirt, underwear, and socks. She had barely laid down before her eyes closed and her breathing began to even out.

_Sleepy-time tea. Sixty-percent of the time it works every time._

Making her way back to the lab, Darcy cleaned up what she could, being careful to check every tiny bit of paper for notes; it wasn’t uncommon to find them scribbled on napkins, or take-out menus, or a cardboard poptart box that had been turned inside out. She organized what she could then took pictures of everything, uploading them to their private secure server. When everything was tidied and saved for future use, Darcy lifted her arms over her head and stretched before taking a seat at her computer, ready to start _her_ day.

Bucky's nightmares had been bad. They were in black and white, except for the unhealthy red that smeared over everything he touched. The blood was tacky, and warm, and no matter how many times he brushed his hands to clear them of the fluid, they would never get clean. He'd been pulled from the dreams with the echo of a falling sensation, reaching out to Steve, seeing the grief in the other man's eyes and anticipating the impact. His eyes had shot open, recognizing the dark ceiling in his and Steve's rooms, but found that he couldn't move, his heart hammering in his chest.

The sleep paralysis was a remnant of the trauma he was still working through. As the shadows and darkness seemed to move at the corners of his eyes, he focused on the warmth of Steve's body beside him, counting in his head until he could move a toe. Then a finger. Finally, he was able to sit up and throw his legs over the side of the bed, toes curling in the rug as he attempted to stop the speed of his heartbeat. He was sweating and felt a bead of it slide down his spine, closing his eyes as his fingers fisted into the mattress beside his thighs.

The worst nights were when he'd wake Steve with his screaming, and the heaving breaths, and the fear that Shuri's work hadn't stuck and the monster that lived inside of him was being pulled to the surface, the night and blackness brushing against his brain like a lover. Bucky glanced over his shoulder, glad that it appeared Steve was still asleep, the rise and fall of his chest even, his face serene. Soundlessly climbing to his feet, Bucky closed himself in the bathroom, running the water before cupping it and splashing it on his face. He grabbed a towel and dried his skin, taking a few moments to stare at himself in the mirror.

The last few months had been a blur. Coming home, revealing all the dirty details of his torture and murders while under Hydra's control, testifying in court... He wasn't sure he'd be able to make it out the other side. Stark had very good lawyers, though, and after everything had been laid bare, they'd labeled him a victim and let him go. 

_A victim_.

Even thinking of that word made the scowl on his face deepen. The victims were the people he'd killed, the terror he'd wrought on the world for decades. It didn't matter how many people told him it was out of his control, they couldn't understand the _responsibility_ he felt on his shoulders. Every life, every dream, every _innocence_ he'd destroyed followed him, like a chain around his neck, holding him back. It'd been easier in Wakanda, when he and Steve had relative privacy, where he'd be able to forget, for just a few seconds, the burden that drowned his lungs.

Tossing the towel on the sink, Bucky quietly slipped out of the bathroom, pulling open drawers and grabbing clothes, leaving Steve in bed. His feet carried him to the only place where he could work out his darkness. The gym was usually quiet since it held older equipment, none of those fancy, expensive treadmills, and ellipticals, and rowing machines that people seemed to prefer now. He felt more comfortable here, especially now as he was the only one awake this early. As his wrapped fists hit the leather bag, he clenched his teeth, working out the terror he'd woken up with, every cross and jab draining some of the frustration. 

It was only when his teeth began to ache in earnest from being clenched so tight that Bucky eased back, shoulders lifting and falling as he panted, his muscles pushed almost to the point of pain. He sat on one of the benches ringing the room, unwrapping his hands as he let his head fall back against the padded wall, letting his breathing slow naturally, until his limbs felt like weights holding him to the spot. When he opened his eyes, he checked the clock, letting out a sigh. He'd only gotten three hours of the sleep, and though he needed more, the idea of returning to their rooms and crawling back into bed seemed like loss, and he needed a win.

Brushing back at the hair that'd fallen out of the tight ponytail at the nape of his neck, Bucky reached out and hit the 'up' button for the elevator, glaring a hole in the floor. When it arrived and the doors pulled apart, Bucky had been taking a step forward when he froze, eyes widening a fraction of an inch when they landed on the occupant of the elevator. She had dark hair and pale skin, was holding two coffee cups, and he watched her finish a spin, laughter falling from her lips. 

The laughter faded when her eyes locked with his, and he could physically track the red flow up her neck and take residence in her cheeks. She looked surprised, her lips forming a perfect circle, and Bucky could feel that same surprise quaking through him as well, though he knew enough to clear his eyes of it, attempting to blank his expression. He tightened his jaw when he saw her hazel eyes stop and stare at his prosthetic, widening when she seemed to realize who he was. She moved until her back hit the far wall of the elevator, putting as much space between them as she possibly could.

Bucky debated letting the doors close and just taking the stairs, but something kept him rooted to the spot. He couldn't explain why, but _not_ getting in the elevator seemed like he was running away. Away from _what_ , he wasn't sure. She was in the private elevator, which meant she had clearance. Avengers related. He hadn't seen her, though that didn't mean much, as he'd done his best to avoid people since they moved home. 

He wished the elevator walls were mirrors instead of stainless steel, as he didn't like putting anyone at his rear, but he forced his legs forward, entering the elevator and turning his back to the woman. He reached out and hit his floor, listening to her breathe in the enclosed space. A small sigh huffed from her mouth and she rearranged, seemingly shaking off some of the awkward embarrassment she'd wrapped herself in.

His eyes lifted to the numbers, watching them climb, deliberately keeping his stance relaxed, not wanting to show her how much she'd unnerved him. He heard her take in a breath, like she was going to say something to him, and Bucky felt a flare of panic surge in his chest. He wasn't ready to talk to someone yet, not someone he didn't already have a connection to, and he couldn't help but feel like a hypocrite. He'd been telling Steve for months to go out and find new relationships and here he was, wanting to run away from someone because he thought they _might_ be trying to say hello to him.

Deciding that getting on the elevator in the first place was a win, and arguing that he'd build up to small talk, the second the doors opened Bucky pushed his way outside, prosthetic scraping in his rush. He was already halfway down the hallway when he glanced back at the elevator, eyebrows furrowing when he saw she was looking down at the floor, a frown on her face. She didn't look back up at him before the doors closed the rest of the way, stealing her from sight. She'd looked as surprised to see him as he'd been to see her, if her red-cheeked embarrassment was any indication, and he supposed _she_ had more to be embarrassed about than he did. Shaking his head, Bucky continued toward his and Steve's rooms, a small smile turning his lips as he remembered her dark hair flying as she spun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change is scary.  
> Whether it's switching between jobs or moving clear across the country, the anxiety can be like a living, breathing creature.  
> Claws around your neck.  
> The taste of copper on your tongue.  
> As terrifying as it can be, change can also be refreshing.  
> It can give you a new outlook.  
> Growing pains are uncomfortable, but they signify a new reality.  
> What you do with that reality is up to you, but I would urge you to see that it's an _opportunity_.  
> Take a deep breath. You smell that? It's _potential_.  
> Let change wash over you and strengthen your bones.  
>  _You got this!_


	10. Permeate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have a security meeting with Happy. Tony checks in on Darcy and Jane and their work. Another elevator meeting between Bucky and Darcy, but this one knocks Bucky off-kilter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> It's been a bit of a week, gang. I'm still reeling with the billion other people who've seen End Game, and my brain is mush.  
> I'm switching jobs next week, which ticks up my anxiety, but the steady schedule of posting acts as a salve for the craziness.  
> I have every intention of continuing to update weekly, but with training that might be hard.  
>  _But_  
>  I've got got chapters through June 10th, and I hope everything goes smoothly so I can keep pumping these out for you!  
> Thank you so much for all the kind words. They lift my heart!  
> 
> 
>   
> 

_I can't remember and I can't concentrate_  
_But I can take a note to permeate_  
_A hit between the eyes_  
_And if souls are meant to be sold_  
_And if hands are only to hold_  
_That I can't do what I'm told_  
_For a moment I feel I'm losing it_  
_Throw my temper down and bury it_  
_The earth will reach the sky_  
_If you talk me out of my needs_  
_And stitch me up at the seams_  
_Then I could live in my dreams_  
_So we'll ride the coattails to the finish line_  
_I don't hear those church bells chime anymore_  
_'Cause I'm in love with this_  


**Coatails - Broods**

“You’re four minutes late.”

Steve's eyes took in the man seated at the conference table, the white of his collared shirt in strict contrast with the perfect black of his suit and tie. The man’s tone hadn't been _aggressive_ , per se, but it wasn't exactly friendly either. It was something they’d been navigating for months. "Sorry, we got hung up -"

"It's fine," Happy said with a wave of his hand, gesturing toward the empty seats across from him. His dark eyes followed Steve and Bucky's progress, raising an expectant eyebrow in their direction when they we settled. "Did you read my response to your report?"

"Yes," Steve answered, giving him a small smile, "It was very thorough."

"I've got a lot of experience, Happy said, his voice clear and without hubris. “It used to be just protecting Tony, but now it's _all_ the people in this tower, and I want to make sure they're safe, and that they _stay_ way."

Steve nodded. Anyone who met Happy Hogan could tell how much he cared about the people around him, and he took the physical security of his people seriously. He knew there was a good reason Tony trusted the man so much, and working with Happy was only slightly awkward. "You're doing a good job, Hogan. Tony didn’t bring us in to help because you’re lacking in any way."

Happy was quiet for a moment before he nodded at Steve. "You can call me Happy."

When a small silence began to drag, Bucky shifted in his seat and sat forward. "Happy -"

Holding up a hand, Happy stopped Bucky's words, the soldier’s eyes widening as he fell quiet. " _You_ will call me Mr. Hogan."

Face clearing of anything but a blank expression, Bucky did his best not to glare at the man. He felt Steve move at his side, but the blond did not speak or try to help the situation. When he was certain his voice was steady and even, he nodded in Happy’s direction, wondering why _he_ was still being given the cold shoulder while Steve wasn’t. "Did I do someth -"

"I was the one that picked up Tony from Siberia, remember? We've got a bit of a way to go before I stop giving you the long stare.” Happy’s expression made it clear that he didn’t care that his words were sharp and cutting. “Let's just say that I'm watching you, buddy."

Steve watched Bucky's grey eyes swing toward him, and he gave his best friend a minute shake of his head. He understood why Happy wasn't exactly friendly with Bucky, but telling Tony's former bodyguard that _he'd_ been the one who'd hurt Tony the most didn't seem like it'd help the situation at all. Instead, he decided to take hold of the conversation and steer it away from the hostile tone that had taken over. "Happy, you've done really extensive work."

"I know."

"It was hard to find any problems you hadn't already worked out," Steve said, watching pride fill Happy's gaze.

"With a few exceptions."

Happy's eyes narrowed when he looked over at Bucky. "What exceptions?"

"The roof access, for one," Bucky explained.

"What about it? You've got to badge in _and_ out to get up there."

"Your badges are great," Steve hurried to add, not wanting to put the head of security off anymore than he already seemed. "We tried to break the code but couldn't."

"Thank you. Tony helped. Pretty foolproof."

Steve nodded, taking a second before continuing. "But if someone was able to get on the roof and detonate something -"

" - or crash something into the building -" Bucky added.

"- we could be looking at another 9/11."

Happy’s eyes sobered dramatically at their words, sitting up straighter in his chair. "We already had blast protections built into the basement, in case someone tried to do something like '93. You thinking we need to add something up there, too?"

"Proximity alerts on all floors above the twenty-fifth would be a start. If something aerial comes within one-hundred feet at that level it should be a red flag. You've got the structure in place already, it just needs to be expanded."

Bucky leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "And the duct work."

"What _about_ the duct work?"

"There are suits out there that can shrink someone down to the size of an ant," Bucky said, "or smaller."

"I thought he was on _our_ side."

"He is," Steve said, trying to diffuse the tension that seemed to hang between Happy and Bucky, "but it might be a good idea to add sensors in the ducts that watch for irregular movement patterns."

"You mean other than the roach motels and rat traps?” Happy felt the weight of their gazes and shook his shoulders, brushing off some of the anxiety he’d allowed to grow in him. “Sorry, but this place was built _before_ you and the super friends included the amazing shrinking ant guy as part of the team." When Steve and Bucky didn't respond, Happy let out a sigh, grabbed his tablet, and rose to his feet. "These are good suggestions. I'll get engineering to start on a game plan."

"Thanks for letting us have a look," Steve said, rising to his feet as well, extending a hand toward the other man.

Happy hesitated before he returned the shake. "Kinda wasn't my decision."

Steve gave an understanding nod. "You're a very loyal man, Happy."

"You're damn right I am," Happy said, chin jutting out defiantly. "Tony's giving you the benefit of the doubt. I guess I have to, too." He cast a sideways glance in Bucky's direction before making his way out of the room.

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, spinning in the chair so he could face Steve. "How many more people are going to threaten you to not hurt Stark again?"

"Buck, we knew coming back wasn't going to be easy," Steve said with a shake of his head. "None of us wanted what happened. Look at it from their perspective."

“Steve -”

“Tony and I both made mistakes. I have no problem admitting that. I thought I was protecting him, and instead all I did was hurt him. That’s something I carry with me every day. If I remember correctly, you didn’t think it was the best idea for me to come back here to talk to him, either.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said with a frown, “because the last time you’d seen him, we’d just beat the hell out of each other.”

“That’s what they remember, too. Tony. Broken, and bleeding, and stranded in a foreign country. Can you really blame them for being protective? Kind of like how you’re being right now?”

The scowl on Bucky’s face deepened. “But you didn’t _want_ to hurt him.”

Steve shook his head, refusing to believe that Tony could have _actually_ hurt Bucky if he’d had the chance. Tony wasn’t a killer. “And if Tony had been in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t have wanted to hurt us, either.”

“You sure about that?”

“We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, at the insistence of a magician.”

Steve sighed, leaning back against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “Buck, none of this is tidy. It’s a mess, and we all added to it in one way or another. Now we’re getting the chance to clean it up. It’s awkward, and full of growing pains, but it’s getting better, little by little.”

Thinking back to the brief time he’d been alone with Tony in the garage, Bucky tried to remember if Tony had been overly hostile, but came up blank. It hadn’t been the easiest conversation, more awkward and tense than anything, but he hadn’t felt the need to worry about his physical safety with the engineer. Bucky knew better than to hope he and Stark would ever be considered ‘friends,’ but not having to look over his shoulder was more than he’d hoped for.

He looked up at Steve, recognizing the compassion behind his lover’s eyes, and not for the first time, Bucky was in awe of his best friend. “How are you always this optimistic?”

“Because I’m done letting the darkness win,” Steve answered, his voice sounding more sure that he felt inside. “We fix _us_ now, and we save the universe later. Those are the only options. Failure isn’t.”

Shaking his head, Bucky climbed to his feet, tugging on Steve’s hand and pulling him closer. As their lips mwt, Bucky couldn’t help wondering how Steve’s soul had stayed so shiny after all the shit they’d had to sludge through. He pulled back, grinning and nodding toward the clock over Steve’s shoulder. “You’re going to be late.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join Sam and I -”

“No,” Bucky said, clearing his throat, trying to cover how adamment his refusal had sounded. “I like working out early.” _And alone._

Nodding, Steve started for the door. “Maybe one day our schedules will match up.”

“Maybe,” Bucky hummed. “Have fun.”

“See you for dinner.”

Tony frowned as he got closer to Foster’s lab, slipping his phone into the back pocket of his slacks. There was a wall of sound, muffled by the shut doors, and the second he pushed into the space, he was hit with a sledgehammer of music. His eyes landed on Foster and Lewis, their arms flailing wildly, hair sweeping out as they spun to the bass. He had to shout to be heard. “ _Am I actually **paying** you for this time?_”

When Jane heard the new voice, she spun toward him, the smile dropping from her face, replaced with surprise as it widened her eyes. She reached out and began tapping Darcy’s arm frantically. When Darcy’s gaze landed on Tony and the raised eyebrow he was throwing their way, she let out a dramatic sigh, finger pressing the button on the top of their speaker, the silence that fell in the lab feeling like a slap in the face. “Hey, we don’t come into _your_ lab and criticize your scientific methods,” Darcy said with narrowing eyes.

“Is that what you call what you were doing?”

Jane frowned and took a step forward. One of her defense mechanisms was stating science facts, and she pulled one out with little effort. “Studies have shown that physical exercise can be beneficial in helping your mind solve problems.”

“That and taking showers,” Darcy added as she slid onto a stool next to one of the work tables, cheeks flushed and breathing a bit labored.

“Uh, I’m gonna need a citation on that.” 

When Darcy just raised an eyebrow at Tony, he turned and gave Jane an expectant expression. Jane shifted under the weight of his gaze. “Is there something you needed, Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah, you can start by calling me Tony. Also,” he said, gesturing toward the mass of notes and equipment spread throughout the room, “what are you working on?”

When Jane lifted her hand like she was going to be begin to chew on her cuticles, Darcy reached out immediately and stopped it. “It’s still in the very early stages,” Jane said, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Tony made his way toward where a large white board covered in formulas sat. “Still, show me what you got.”

“Uhhh, okay. Um,” Jane was moved to action, flitting from one place to another, pointing toward a sofa in the corner. “You sit down there, and I’ll grab…”

Darcy leaned forward, resting her elbow on the work table and putting her chin in her hand. She _loved_ watching Jane work. The astrophysicist could be a bit scatterbrained, but once she got into the actual science-talk, she was absolutely incredible. It reminded Darcy so much of her mom that it made her stomach ache from time to time.

“Okay,” Jane said, erasing the whiteboard with jerky movements. “So, you know how scientists in Spain were able to create a magnetic wormhole that connected two regions of space?”

Tony frowned, crossing his legs and sitting back on the sofa. “The ones that used metamaterial and surfaces?”

Jane jabbed a marker in his direction. “Exactly.”

“It was interesting, yeah, but…?”

“They, essentially, showed that the current traveled through _some_ kind of dimension outside our three. But actually sending _matter_ through the dimension would require _huge_ amounts of gravitational energy, energy we can’t produce yet.”

“Sure.”

“But what if we _could_?”

Darcy grinned when Tony’s back straightened. In the few times she’d interacted with the man, it was obvious he really _did_ speak science-geek. Brilliant man, sure, but the fact that it wasn’t just bunk was impressive. 

When Tony didn’t interrupt, Jane continued. “Einstein and Rosen based their theories on the idea that these ‘tunnels’ would connect two place in time or space. They collapse so quick, though, that they’d be impossible to use. _But_ ,” she lifted her hand and drew two circles with a line connecting them, “if we could harness gravitational energy, say from an energy source like the one powering this building, we might be able to hold that bridge open longer.” Jane stretched the line, making it thicker and making a stick figure man fit in the middle.

Gaze swinging toward Stark, Darcy watched the man’s face lose some of the sarcastic mask he seemed to always wear. 

“You want to use the arc reactor as a battery to create a wormhole?”

“Not _just_ the arc reactor. It’s not enough.” When Jane glanced back at Tony, she saw the look of offense he was giving her. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s impressive, but it’s just not strong enough on its own. We’d need to find some other source, something more powerful than anything we’ve seen before.”

“So what, and where, would we find something that could power it?”

“... I don’t know.”

One of Tony’s dark eyebrows raised. “You don’t know?”

“I’m pretty sure the lady just said she doesn’t know,” Darcy said with a bit of protective bite in her tone. When Tony looked over at her, her expression didn’t change, despite the look in his dark eyes.

Turning back to Jane, he crossed his arms over his chest. “But you’re working on it?”

“Theoretically, I know it’s out there. I’m just trying to find it. I’ve been looking for radiation spikes, to narrow down to possible energy signatures, but we’ve been having trouble pinpointing one that lasts for longer than a few seconds at a time.”

“You have everything you need to keep working?”

“Yes.”

Tony nodded impressively. “I get it. Delicate research. It’s good. I like where your head’s at.” He climbed to his feet, noticing the looks both Darcy and Jane were shooting his way.

Jane’s eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“Sure. You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

When he said nothing more, Darcy slipped from her stool with a disbelieving expression on her face. “That’s it? You came down here to give us an ‘atta girl’ and a pat on the back?”

“What, you’ve never received praise for your work?”

Darcy shared a look with Jane before turning back to Tony. “No. Not really, no.”

Tony gestured dismissively through the air. “Well, I believe in you. I’ve heard you might be the key to keeping us all alive.”

The expression that climbed onto Jane’s face was heavy with surprise. “ _What_?”

“Metaphorically speaking. Or literally. Take your pick. Either way, I’m impressed with what I’m seeing.”

“Then you might want to get your eyes checked, Mr. Stark.” In her peripheral vision, Jane saw Darcy snort and throw a thumbs-up in her direction.

“Mmmmhmmm,” Tony hummed, nodding as he started toward the door. “Keep me informed of any new discoveries. Feel free to go back to your dance party.”

Quietness fell over the room when Tony pushed through the doors, Jane’s eyes following his retreating form until he disappeared. When the scream of bass and guitar refilled the room, Jane turned back to Darcy with wide eyes. “ _Darcy!_ ”

“ _Hey_ ,” Darcy yelled back, “ _you heard the man! Dance party re-commencing!_ ”

Darcy’s eyes were glued to the red display, watching the numbers climb higher, toe tapping out a steady rhythm in the empty elevator. One of her earbuds hung free, the music muted in her ears, as her thoughts were much louder. Every morning for the past week, on the same floor - which she’d determined held one of the Avengers’ private gyms - _he_ had gotten onto the elevator. Barnes. Bucky Barnes. Captain America’s best friend. The one who’d had unspeakably horrible things done to him.

_Somebody said you got a new friend_  
_Does she love you better than I can?_  
_There's a big black sky over my town_  
_I know where you're at, I bet she's around_  
_And yeah, I know it's stupid_  
_But I just gotta see it for myself_

She’d been too clammed up to actually _say_ anything to him. He was always sweaty, and gorgeous, and when faced with that much pretty, Darcy’s tongue just stopped working. It’d always been a problem with people that pretty, male _or_ female, and James Barnes hit all her pretty boxes. The pain in his eyes, which he tried his best to hide, made her chest ache. You couldn’t fake that amount of hurt. You just couldn’t.

She’d spent a not insignificant amount of time over the past week debating whether to say anything to him in the first place. Their meetings were always early in the morning, and she knew from experience that some people just wanted to be left alone. She’d always been a morning person, wanting to get her work done and have the rest of the day to do what _she_ wanted, but Darcy understood why people would need some time to wake up.

_I'm just wanna dance all night_  
_And I'm all messed up, I'm so out of line, yeah_  
_Stilettos and broken bottles_  
_I'm spinning around in circles_  
_And I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh_  
_I'm right over here, why can't you see me, oh_  
_And I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh_  
_I keep dancing on my own_

It was possible he didn’t want to talk to _anyone_ , let alone someone he didn’t know. She got it. But…

… every time the doors opened and he looked up at her, the storm-grey of his eyes held her captive. They were guarded, and careful, and it made Darcy’s stomach clench in response. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for him now. Now that everyone knew all his deepest, darkest secrets. She understood why people would be too afraid to talk to someone so intense, but she _refused_ to let herself be ruled by fear. He was just a man. A ridiculously hot, stupid gorgeous man, but a man all the same.

She felt the elevator come to a stop, taking in a deep breath as the doors opened. He was there, like always, and for a split second, she would have sworn she saw a tint of expectation, then disappointment, fill his expression before it blanked. She didn’t move toward the back of the car this time, just side-stepped to give him enough room to stand next to her. Her grip tightened on the two cups in her hands, pinky tapping against the cardboard.

_Say hello. It’s easy. Just one word. You can do it. Come on, Lewis, just say the word. **Say the word!**_

When they were only two floors away from the one he always exited on, Darcy took in a deep breath and turned her face toward his. Her lips lifted in a small smile. “Hi,” she said, not much more than an exhale of air. At first, he said nothing, no outward sign that he’d even heard her. Finally, as the doors opened on his floor, she watched him turn to look at her, nodding in her direction almost imperceptibly before he brushed through the doors and disappeared from sight.

_So far away, but still so near_  
_The lights come up, the music dies_  
_But you don't see me standing here_

Darcy let the rest of the air hiss from her lungs, directing her eyes down, a small self-deprecating laugh huffing past her lips. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. A smile back? A tiny ‘hello’? Regardless, he’d at least acknowledged her, and she supposed that was something. She’d tried, at least, so at bare minimum she could say that.

In any case, she’d take the hint. She pushed her ear bud back in, rolling her shoulders and letting out a sigh. She had a frenetic astrophysicist to take care of and a pile of notes to make sense of.

_Blind spot in camera on floor forty-two. Need to adjust at least twenty-five degrees._ Bucky’s fists hit the speed bag as his thoughts tumbled, movements like muscle memory that required little brain power. Which was good, as he’d only gotten four hours of sleep the night prior.

Princess Shuri had told him that finding a good therapist would go a long way to helping him heal the mental wounds that Hydra’s control had wrought, but like it always did, his brain raged against the idea. Retelling his history in the closed-door testimony had been an entirely different kind of destruction. When he’d been in Wakanda, spending lazy nights with Steve and taking care of his goats, he’d felt something like peace settle back into his body. It had felt wrong at first, not believing he _deserved_ peace, but the longer he’d stayed there, the easier it’d gotten.

Coming home. It was supposed to make things better, but seemed like it’d made things _worse_. He was sure telling all the dirty details hadn’t helped, but ever since they’d returned to the tower, Bucky had started to feel panic rise and fall in his chest when he thought of going outside. There were too many eyes, too many things that reminded him of home. Something he’d never feel again.

He hadn’t talked to Steve about it, not wanting to give his best friend any more reasons to worry. It was getting harder to hide the nightmares though, as well as the fact that he felt himself slipping deeper into the anxiety that clung to him all the time. Though he hadn’t said anything _directly_ , it’d been eluded to several times. Bucky had realized early on that it was effecting the blond more that he wanted to admit, and it was one of the reasons he’d pushed so hard for Steve to go out and meet new people.

There were things he knew Steve wanted that he would _never_ be able to give him. It wasn’t just the idea of a family and children, though that was definitely there, too, but there were countless others.

Going for a walk in Central Park without looking over their shoulders for dangers.

Going to a concert and _not_ requiring the building’s schematics to make sure there were enough exits if something happened.

Having dinner without someone calling him a murderer.

That wasn’t a life.

It was a shadow. 

A mirage. 

Not substantial.

_Not enough._

It seemed like things were getting better for Steve, and Bucky wanted to keep it on that track. If it meant that he had to hide how deeply he was drowning, then it was worth it. He’d always felt the deep pull to protect Steve, and even with the serem pumping through his veins, Bucky still believed it was his duty to make sure his best friend was happy. That would never change.

Dropping his hands to his sides, Bucky’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, feeling sweat slide down the side of his neck, his muscles aching with strain. He threw a look over his shoulder, noting the time above the door. He needed to get to the elevator. He needed to stay on his schedule.

As he unwound the tape from his hands, his thoughts took a detour. Staying on his routine meant that _she’d_ be there, coffee in hand, headphones in her ears. There were so many things in his life that were inconsistent, but it appeared she was not one of them. 

The morning after their first run in, Bucky’d tried looking her up in _SI_ ’s computer system, but she hadn’t been listed on any employee roster. She obviously had access to the higher floors of the tower, which meant she was important enough to be hidden. When he and Steve had officially started as security liaisons, they’d been told that ninety-seven percent of the security database was at their disposal. The other _three_ percent was on a need-to-know basis, and so far, that percent didn’t include him.

Bucky had thought about asking Steve, seeing if his best friend could weasel out the information, but something stopped him. If Stark had brought her into the fold, Bucky knew a thorough background check would have been run. As flippant as Stark was, he took the safety of his people seriously. So, his curiosity continued to be unsatisfied.

It was late enough in the fall that it was still dark out when he made his way down the hallway, just a hint of orange on the eastern horizon. It was probably cold outside, something that didn’t really matter to him. Absently, he wondered what hat the Elevator Woman would be wearing. So far he’d counted at least three different colors, and as of yet he hadn’t been able to work out the rotation. 

When he heard the ding of the car arriving, he took in a deep breath, gray eyes lifting, waiting for the doors to open. When they did, he was greeted with the sight of her, just like normal. Routine. Schedule. She wasn’t wearing a hat, though, and he had a split second before he deliberately cleared the emotion from his eyes.

Her hair was loose, dark and wavy around her shoulders, and he couldn’t explain exactly why that made uncertainty curl in his stomach. Had he really placed expectations on a woman he’d only known a week? It wasn’t _her fault_ that the change set his teeth clenching, and he tried his best to tamp down the uneasiness that filled him. 

She didn’t move toward the back of the car like normal, just stepped to the side so he had enough room to stand next to her. _Another deviation_. He reached out and pressed the button for his floor, arm dropping heavily. He’d begun to repeat the concerns he needed to take to Happy in his head, like a mantra, something to keep him grounded.

Her voice cut through the air next to him, her greeting of ‘ _hi_ ’ almost like a whisper. The air in Bucky’s lungs froze, his body going still. There had been so many changes when it came to her that it left him reeling. Had he really put _that_ much onus on the seconds-long elevator ride with her? A stranger? He considered saying something back, returning the greeting, but he found his tongue tied with a lack of surety.

It felt like hours, but was probably only seconds, before the elevator arrived at his floor. As the doors opened, he cast a glance to his left, giving the woman a small nod before exiting the car. When he was sure that the doors had closed and she could no longer see him, Bucky’s steps stopped altogether, his hands fisting and unfisting at his sides. His heart had started racing and he tried his best to calm it. 

This. _This_ was why Steve needed to find someone else. Bucky was nearly having a panic attack because someone he didn’t know had changed her wardrobe and said hello. He was a mess, barely even _living_. Shuri was right. If he’d learning anything in the past three minutes, it was that he needed help to deal with the blizzard of emotions he felt. Taking a deep breath and then letting it out, Bucky started moving again, mind returning to his mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mental health can affect every experience you have.  
> While the stigma has lessened recently due to a light being shone on those who suffer, it's much harder for people to accept their truth on a personal level.  
> If you've had the battle, you know how hard it is to look in a mirror and not know the person who's looking back you.  
> You are _allowed_ to mourn what you've lost to mental health. It's not painless, odorless, or tasteless. It's ocher, staining your memories.  
> Once you see it, it's hard to recognize anything else...  
> ... but there _is_ more.  
> There are sunrises that are so beautiful it bring on tears.  
> There are friends out there, just waiting to meet you.  
> There are movies that you never knew would become your favorite.  
> There are so many gorgeous things in the world that you haven't experienced yet.  
> Tell the darkness 'not today, mother fucker' and show it how bright you shine.


	11. Swallow The Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a rough night. Darcy has dinner with Jane and Thor. Steve and Tony take a field trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Thank you so much for all the sweet notes about my new job! It's exciting and feeling more real.  
> Especially since I've started packing up my desk and it's weird not to have my things.  
> But in all that uncertainty, getting to come home and post things makes me feel more steady.  
> So thank _you_!  
> Bucky's still got some darkness to sort through, but I promise it gets better! It'll just take a bit.  
>   
> 

_Give me the burden, give me the blame_  
_I’ll shoulder the load, and I’ll swallow the shame_  
_Give me the burden, give me the blame_  
_How many, how many Hail Mary's is it gonna take?_  


**Devil's Backbone - The Civil Wars**

Bucky’s arms tightened around his knees, his body shifting. The sound of water slapping the tile filled the ensuite bathroom, a heavy blanket of steam making everything blurry and muted. The spray was as hot as the tap would go, nearly scalding, but it wasn’t enough to warm him, and his teeth chattered as he tried to pull himself from the wreckage of his nightmare.

The cold was a reoccuring theme, something that always followed him in the dark. The creeping frost. Enough to freeze the air in his lungs and steal the warmth from his blood. The cryotube had been a necessity for Hydra, but it had become more than that over the years; when their control had started to slip, when memories had started to puncture through the veil of his programming, the tube had become a _punishment_ , something done to him in retaliation for perceived insubordination.

Being shut into the cryotube had been terrifying. 

No way to know how long he’d be in. 

No idea if they’d ever wake him again. 

Nothing promised. 

Just… _nothing_. 

An unending ocean of frozen waves and painful torture.

Bucky had been able to slip from bed without waking Steve, a miracle in its own right, making it to the bathroom before he vomited up what they’d had for dinner. Coming out of the tube had been excruciating. A steady cocktail of drugs had kept him alive in his frozen state, and ensured he could be pulled out with little to no cellular breakdown. Those drugs were not without their downfall, and he felt the bitter agony of withdrawal every time. Even in his nightmares, he could feel that drag in his bones.

Simply remembering the symptoms were enough to set his teeth chattering again, and Bucky pressed his forehead to his knees, attempting to stop the flip of his stomach as he rode the wave of nausea. Steve could tell something was wrong, but Bucky wasn’t sure how to explain why it was getting worse. He could feel something building within him, some kind of break on the horizon, and his body seemed to be on a crash course with _something_.

If he wasn’t dreaming about the horrible things he’d done while being a tool of Hydra, he dreamt of what his hands _could_ do.

Bodies, broken and bleeding at his feet. 

Natasha, crimson covering her skin and blending into the red of her hair.

Stark’s armor, broken in pieces, scattered in a line of destruction.

Steve.

_Steve._

All he’d ever wanted in life was for Steve to be happy. It’d been one of the only constant, true things in all his years. He felt it in his bones, in the deepest, darkest part of him, and he held onto that light as tightly as he could, knuckles white. When he could feel his feet again, when the cold had lessened and begun to fade, Bucky pulled himself from the tile and stood, one hand pressed against the wall for support.

The spray of water nearly took the breath from his lungs, his skin protesting the temperature, but Bucky did not take a step back or twist the spigot to make the water cooler. He slowed his heart rate and let his breath out slowly, adjusting to the heat. 

His old prosthetic, the one Hydra had given him, had been horrible when it came to temperature. If his arm was cold, he could feel it like a dull knife, cutting and jarring. If it was hot, it was scorching, burning in his skin and leaving him hissing. Shuri’s new arm was perfect, however, and he felt nothing but the water hitting him, washing his nightmare down the drain.

Despite his better judgment, he’d allowed Natasha to set up an appointment with one of the therapists _Stark Industries_ had on staff. Even though she’d assured him that everything he said would be covered under doctor-patient confidentiality, Bucky still wasn’t sure how he’d relive everything all over again. He’d done it for the government committee, but that had been a necessity, something he’d _had_ to do.

“ _So’s this,_ ” Natasha had said, and when her green eyes had held his, Bucky hadn’t been able to argue with her.

He didn’t have the heart to tell he had absolutely no plans to go. He couldn’t say those things again, couldn’t give voice to his darkest, most twisted thoughts. It didn’t matter that he knew he needed help, the reality of getting that help was too much. He could scream and yell in his mind that he needed help, that he knew he couldn’t handle this on his own, but Bucky’s mind wouldn’t let him relive it to anyone else. Not again. He’d hide what he could and brush off what he couldn’t, and somewhere in the middle he’d hope for some kind of solution. 

When he turned off the water, the quiet in the room was stark. He moved without thought, drying himself off, glancing up at the clock with dark eyes. The fact that he was still on his schedule was surprising, and his thoughts shifted from the darkness of his nightmares and toward a head of dark hair who smelled like coffee. Bucky’s lips turned down, wondering how someone he didn’t know had become a stable touchstone for him. 

_Just one more way to be disappointed when it all falls apart._

“Lady Darcy!”

Darcy spun in her chair, a large grin blooming on her face as she saw who pushed through the door to their lab. “Big Guy! I didn’t know you’d be gracing us with your presence!”

“I had need to speak with Steve about something.”

Mind instantly making its own ‘gulp’ noise, Darcy tried her best to keep the tint of fear from coloring her expression. “Y-yeah? Something wrong?”

“No,” Thor said, giving Darcy an affectionate look before wrapping his arms around her, the wheels of her chair rolling as she squeaked about the tightness. He pulled back, blinking expectantly as he looked around the lab. “I was wondering if Jane -”

“Oh, yeah, she’ll be right back. She just needed to run something by Banner.”

With a nod, Thor crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the table, giving the lab assistant a happy smile. “It is very nice, knowing the two of you are working with the team. It helps calm my fears. I am not sure there’s a safer place for you to dwell in this realm.”

“Aw,” Darcy said, reaching out to poke him in his (ridiculously large) bicep, “thanks. I mean, I don’t know how much _help_ we are here. Jane’s working real hard, but I still don’t get why they were willing to fund all this. We might not be of much help.”

“Nonsense. You have yet to meet a problem you could not solve.”

Darcy raised a dark eyebrow and pointed it in his direction. “The death robot in New Mexico?”

“An unfortunate mistake.”

“The obelisk in London?”

Thor shifted as she stared at him. “A miscommunication.”

“You’re real sweet when you get caught in a lie.” When Thor frowned, Darcy rolled her eyes and patted his arm. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I’m just saying that in a tower filled with superheroes, I’m not sure us _normies_ really fit in.”

“It is not a lie, Darcy. I would put my life in your hands without question.”

Darcy snorted. “That kinda makes you a little stupid.”

“Who’s stupid?” Jane asked as she made her way into the lab, gaze cast down. She looked up from the tablet in her hands, eyes lighting with surprise when she noticed Thor. She tossed the device on the nearest surface as her face broke into a wide grin, practically _sprinting_ toward the Asgardian.

Face wearing a wistful smile, Darcy leaned forward on the table, putting her chin in her palm as she watched Jane and Thor embrace. Inter-realm dating was hard, but _obviously_ appeared to be worth it. Something about the pair always put her in a good mood, mostly because when Janey was happy, Darcy was happy.

And Jane looked like she was _very_ happy as she nearly climbed Thor like a tree. When their (ridiculously long) kiss was broken, Jane grinned up at him, her eyes big and bright. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know -”

“Unexpected necessity,” Thor explained, pushing a lock of auburn hair behind Jane’s ear. “I was hoping the visit wouldn’t be all business. Do you have plans for dinner tonight? I would love to -”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jane nearly shouted before her cheeks tinted pink and she attempted to look nonchalant, “I mean, yeah, sure, dinner would be great.”

Darcy watched the couple, almost able to _see_ cartoon hearts dancing in their eyes as they blinked happily at each other. When it continued on, Darcy shifted on her chair, a small flash of soft jealousy striking in her chest. It wasn’t disappointment at Thor or Jane, obviously, but it was hard to see two people so heavily in love and know you didn’t have the same.

She’d meant what she said to Steve weeks ago. Darcy really wasn’t sure she’d be able to do the long-distance thing. She needed someone who was _there_ , someone _she_ could be there for. It was easier for Thor and Jane, seeing as the Asgardian could travel on a rainbow to visit, but she was almost positive there was noone with a similar means of transport.

It wasn’t that Darcy felt unfulfilled; she really _did_ believe Jane’s work was important, and helping her in any way was satisfying. But sometimes, when she gazed up at the stars and wondered what else was out there, she wished there was someone there beside her, wondering the same thing. Someone who knew, someone who understood how crazy her life was and could commiserate. This, of course, turned her brain back to thinking about Steve Rogers and the two times she’d seen him. And on the heels of _that_ thought was of the dark man in the elevator. Bucky Barnes. Steve’s best friend.

She’d tried to open up to him, to say hello, but so far he’d been pretty unresponsive to her friendliness. It was what she always did. She was forever attempting to pull people out of their stillness. Part of it was a study of her own history; Darcy’s mother might had been a type-A scientist, but her _aunt_ had been a therapist who specialized in loss and trauma. Aunt Adrienne had instilled in Darcy a knack for active listening, and a calm non-threatening bedside manner. It’s what had gotten under Jane and Selvig’s skin, and she’d hoped it would transfer to the dark elevator man, but it appeared his shell was too hard for even her to crack. Maybe he was a bridge too far. Best to leave him in his quiet from now on.

Realizing her train of thought would only lead to frustration and a feeling of hopelessness, and looking up as Thor and Jane exchanged happy smiles, Darcy grabbed the notepad that was in front of her and slipped from her stool. It had been a while since her best friend and her boyfriend had spent much time together, and the last thing she wanted to do was distract.

Jane frowned at the squeak of a chair, looking over as Darcy tried to make it to the door unnoticed. “Hey, Darcy, did you want to -”

“No, no,” Darcy said, gesturing dismissively with her arm as she shook her head, “you guys should have a little alone time, go on a date, have some fun. I’ll be fine. I’ve got enough work to keep me busy.”

Thor held Jane’s hand in his, but took a step toward Darcy, extending his other hand toward her. “Darcy, I would very much like to hear how things are going here. Would you please join us?”

Darcy frowned, looking critically at the two of them. Her shoulders lifted and dropped with a sigh. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“Third wheel?” Thor turned his confused expression from Darcy to Jane. 

Rolling her eyes, Darcy dropped her tablet on the table. “Oh my fuck, Big guy, you’re fucking adorable. _Yes_ , fine, I will come to dinner. But then I’m coming back here and you guys are having _you_ time. Deal?”

“I accept your terms,” Thor said, grinning when Darcy placed her hand in his. 

Raising an eyebrow, Darcy looked Thor up and down. “You might want to tone down the cape a bit. I mean, it’s fabulous, but not exactly inconspicuous.”

***

An hour and a half later, the three were shoved into a booth at the back of an italian restaurant, which was the quintessential stereotype. Red checkered tablecloths covered every surface, sconces winked with candlelight, and fake grapes hung from any screw left exposed. The breadsticks were delicious and Darcy took a large bite, chewing around it as she watched Thor inhale roll after yeasty roll. “So how’s it feel to be king?”

“It is… odd,” Thor confessed, taking a large drink from the mug of beer in front of him. He set it down, a look of consideration on his face. “My father had always attempted to explain how heavy the crown was -”

Darcy leaned forward, her two glasses of house red pinkening her cheeks, “you have an actual crown?!”

“... I was speaking in metaphors.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, sitting back as Jane snorted across the table, tucked safely and happily under Thor’s arm. “Well, let me just tell you: you could _totally_ pull off a crown.”

The brilliant grin that Thor gave her brightened the entire dimmed restaurant. “Thank you.” When she waved her hand for him to continue, his face sobered a bit. “I feel my people’s pain as we search for a new home.”

“Have you found any prospects?”

Looking down at Jane, Thor gave her a tight shake of his head. “My brother, Heimdall, and Valkyrie are looking for a place as we speak.”

Tearing into another breadstick, Darcy couldn’t help the snicker that broke free. “Heimdall and Valkyrie sound like names from American Gladiators.”

Thor gave her an impressed nod. “It is an apt connection. Both of them are, indeed, gladiators.”

When it went quiet for a few seconds, the gravity of the situation pressing down on them, Darcy filled the silence with words. “It’s nice you have people on your team that can help. Right now you’re kinda like rolling stones.”

“I fear we may never stop rolling until we find a friendly realm to house my people.”

“Are you sure there are any friendly realms _left_ after what Loki’s done?” Darcy shouted when a foot under the table kicked into her shin, and she glared heavily at Jane, who was giving her a scowl of her own. “Ow!” The expression Jane was levying in her direction was sharp. “ _What_? It’s a valid question!”

Thor nodded knowingly. “It does cause a bit of tension. Many who remain have been burnt by him before.”

“Including you,” Jane breathed, watching a sigh pass the blond’s lips.

“Yes, but he is my brother, and when Asgard needed him, he was true to our people.”

“Harumph,” Darcy said aloud, drinking what was left in her glass. “I’ll hold onto my grudge until he proves he’s not just waiting for the next opportunity to screw you over.”

“I understand your feelings,” Thor said, lips turning up when Darcy smiled at him. “However, he masqueraded as our father for quite some time, and all he did was create statues of himself and write plays that lauded his name. I truly believe he wants what’s best for Asgard.”

Jane reached out and patted his hand comfortingly. “Well, as long as Asgard’s interests don’t conflict with ours, maybe we’ll be safe.”

Darcy shrugged her shoulder. “You should talk to Wakanda. Maybe you’d be able to make, like, a new settlement on antarctica or something. Maybe in the Marianas Trench. They might be able to help you hide it.”

She stuffed the rest of one roll in her mouth before reaching for another. When Darcy looked up at Jane and Thor, they were both giving her matching expressions of surprise. “What? I did the reading, okay? They kept themselves hidden from the rest of the world for centuries. Seems like they might be able to help hide a couple thousand people.”

Even though it was impossible, Thor’s smile brightened as he regarded her with affection. “It is as I said: there is not a problem you have been unable to solve.”

Tony breezed out of the elevator, teeth clicking as he reviewed the latest specs for his new jet design. He slowed when his eyes focused past the lens feeding him the data, seeing a very pensive-looking Steve leaning against the wall next to his office door. Trying to remember if he'd done something that would have pissed off the soldier - well, anything more than normal - Tony took in a deep breath as he neared. "Something on your mind, Cap?"

Pushing off the wall, Steve watched Tony grow closer, a guarded look in the smaller man's eyes. In the weeks since he and Bucky had moved into the tower, his path had only crossed with Tony's during debriefs of missions and behind closed doors as he'd explained why he'd gone against the first Accords _and_ why he was willing to sign the new ones that had been enacted while the World Council worked toward a resolution that made both sides happy. 

A wave of awkwardness washed over him. Steve wanted to rebuild the camaraderie they'd had before their differences had torn them apart, but he wasn't exactly sure how to go about it. "Just thought we could touch base on Jane Foster."

Giving Steve a nod, Tony pushed into his office, leaving the door open. "Right. Yeah. I, uh, already did."

Steve's eyebrows lifted. "You did?"

"Sure. Popped my head in, saw what she's working on."

When Tony didn't elaborate, Steve came to stand next to his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "And?"

" _And_ things are going fine. She's close to a breakthrough. Or a break _down_. Definitely one of those two." When the frown and look of consternation didn't leave Steve's face, Tony took a heavy seat in his chair, raising a dark eyebrow at the other man. "Why, you hear something else?"

"No," Steve answered with a shake of his head, "no, nothing like that. I figured you'd be the one checking in on her, since it'd be weird for me to."

"Why? Because you know shit all about science?"

A scowl took residence on Steve's face. "I wouldn't say that."

Tony's snapped and pointed in Steve's direction. "That's right. You _are_ science." A definite lack of amusement was levied his way, and Tony took in a deep breath then let it out slowly. "I'm sorry. That was rude. I'm still... Well, let's just say it's hard to forget the last year."

Steve was glad he wasn't the only one that felt awkward at this impasse, the chasm that had been cut from the glaciers between them. "I know. It's... this whole year has been..."

"You don't have to tell me. Finally something we can agree on." Tony couldn't help the small shrug of his shoulders when Steve looked up at him. "I'm just saying I feel it, too."

"Do you -" Steve shifted his weight, clearing his throat. "Do you still believe Strange? About the war he saw? What's coming?"

A bit of the friendliness faded from Tony's eyes. "It's _been_ coming. The Chitauri and Loki were just the beginning. The threat was always there. I tried to warn you -"

"I know, but other than sending Loki back to Asgard and keeping the tesseract in friendly hands, we had nothing concrete -"

Tony climbed to his feet, expression darkening. "Nothing concrete? A _magician_ showed up outside your place and you believed _him_ over me?"

Feeling like the conversation was headed into an argument, Steve shook his head. "I'm sorry, Tony."

"No. It makes sense. Why listen to me? I'm just a human, right? No powers. Not a soldier. Just a big man in a suit of armor, if I'm remembering your words correctly."

"I didn't come here to fight."

"Then why _did_ you come here? Your veil of checking on Foster is a little opaque."

"I don't like this." When Tony gave him an expectant expression, Steve gestured between the two of them. "This. This animosity that's come between us. We both decided to work together toward mending this, but _neither_ of us have done a good job of following through."

"I'm not a big fan of the tension either. Disliking you was easier when you were just a perfect set of teeth and a uniform."

"It was easier when you were just a dick." The look on Tony's face was priceless, and Steve watched the engineer blink at him, something close to acceptance flashing behind his dark brown eyes.

"What did I change into?"

Steve hesitated, worried that they were heading straight into another argument, but since Tony hadn't immediately flown off the handle at the criticism, he decided to steer into the skid. "A dick with politics."

Tony looked at Steve for another long moment, the silence between them stretching, before he nodded and jumped to his feet. "You busy right now?"

He did the best to keep skepticism and suspicion off his face, but Steve could tell he failed. "Why?"

"I have something to show you." 

The quiet followed them out of Tony's office, hanging heavy in the elevator as they descended to the lower levels, the ones that housed _Stark Industries_ and their assorted offices. Tony grinned at everyone they passed, and Steve was struck again by how _easy_ it was for Tony to turn on and off his charm. Steve used to think it was all a front, a mask Tony took on and off when it suited him, and in several ways, that was _exactly_ what he did. 

As he watched Tony swipe through pictures on a man’s phone who’d stopped them in the hallway, listening to the stories that accompanied the photos of a one-year-old child covered in cake, Steve tried to draw a line between sincerity and forced pretense. He wasn't sure where Tony fell. Steve followed Tony down the brightly lit hallway, coming to stand before two beautifully-lacquered doors. 

Tony pulled open the door and swept his arm in Steve's direction. "Welcome to the Yinsen Center for Philanthropy."

There was something in Tony's eyes that made Steve feel like he was missing something. "Yinsen?"

"Ho Yinsen. He was a great man," Tony said, looking down at his sneakers for a beat before glancing back up at Steve, "he deserves as great of a legacy." His face lit up when a woman behind the front desk climbed to her feet, an expression of surprise on her face. "Steve Rogers, I'd like you to meet Beverly Edwards. Bev, it's my esteemed honor to introduce you to Captain America."

"Oh wow," the older woman said, reaching out to shake Steve's hand with vigor, "Mr. Rogers, it is amazing to meet you. Thank you so much for your service."

Trying not to think of where this was headed - and how angry he'd be if this wasn't for a good reason - Steve shook her hand and smiled. "It's very nice to meet you, Beverly."

"Beverly lost her son, Gabriel, during the Chitauri attack. He was a firefighter with Engine 80."

Steve's eyes softened, his gaze swinging from Tony and back toward Beverly. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Beverly said, her eyes taking on a glint but clearing when she squeezed his hand again. "You were his absolute favorite growing up. I must have read your stories to him a million times. You, and Sergeant Barnes, and the rest of the 'Howlies'. He always said that when he grew up, he wanted to help save people, to be a superhero. Just like you."

Though he could see the pain behind her eyes, Steve watched the woman power through, nostalgia in her voice as she remembered her son. Feeling his chest tighten with emotion, Steve nodded his head. "He _was_ a superhero," he said, watching her wet gaze fill with pride.

Reaching up to wipe her eyes, laughing softly, Beverly pulled her hand from Steve's, glancing over at Tony. "Was there something you needed, Tony?"

"No, Beverly, I'm just showing Rogers around. I'll be back for our three o'clock?"

"We'll be ready." The phone rang and Beverly retook her helm, her happy voice sounding chipper. 

Steve watched as Tony lifted his arm, waving it through the air, finally getting the attention of a man who was sitting at a desk further into the office. The man blinked once before a smile climbed to his face. He made several gestures with his hands, and Steve watched Tony sign back at the man, surprise lighting his features. "You know sign language?"

"I'm learning," Tony said, letting his hands drop to his sides. "That's Reggie. Reggie lost his hearing when a gas tank exploded during our mission in Beirut. Clint's been helping him get acclimated, advising me on ways to make everything more accessible for him." He nodded his head toward the doors, leading them back into the hallway. "You see, I wanted boots on the ground, people who understood loss, who could make the foundation better, who would empathize with the people applying for aid."

As they got back into the elevator, the quiet closing around them again, Steve crossed his arms again, uncertainty pinging through him. "... why are you showing me this?"

"When you look at me, do you see a good man?"

The question took Steve by complete surprise, and his arms fell heavily to his sides. "Tony -"

"I wasn't before. Don't get me wrong," Tony said, glancing once at Steve before directing his eyes forward again, "it's not like I was punching puppies and stepping on rainbows. I was pretty okay, all things considered. You once told me that the man who went into that ice wasn't the same one that came out. It was the same for me, except mine was a cave in Afghanistan. I know Obadiah never expected me to make it back alive, but I did, and ever since I've been busting my _ass_ to try and right the wrongs the Stark name is associated with. My old man might have been fine with zero accountability, but I'm not."

When it seemed Tony's words had come to an end, Steve looked over at him. "Neither am I."

Tony turned his both to Steve’s, passion lighting his gaze. "Then work with me and Rhodey. Come to the meetings. Talk with the World Council. Let people see that smile and _know_ that we're all working toward the same goal. There are still people that want you and Barnes behind bars. Change their minds."

Steve sighed, nodding at Tony. He knew he needed to be more involved, especially after everything that had happened. It fell to him, because he would _never_ ask Bucky to do something so potentially damaging. They were still dealing with the fallout of his history and trauma, and the last thing he wanted to do was derail all the progress his best friend had made. "I'd be happy to sit in on the meetings."

Taking the win for what it was, Tony left the elevator and started back toward his office, Steve at his side. "I think we made a pretty good team, before..." He trailed off, hearing his therapist's voice in his ear, "...before things got complicated. We can't go back, I know that, but we _can_ move forward. I don't know who you are, at least, other than the entirely gilded memories Daddy Dearest regaled me with. And I don't think you really know me, either."

He wanted to argue with Tony, to tell him that they _did_ know each other, but when he really thought about it, Steve realized Tony was right. Other than the surface history - which was rougher now that everything had come to light - he really _didn't_ know enough about Tony. It was all superficial, nothing deeper than what could be found in one of the gossip rags. If this was going to work, they needed to be more than just coworkers. "What do you suggest?"

Tony frowned, letting Steve catch the door to his office, entering the plush interior. "As distasteful as it might sound, maybe we need to spend time together that _doesn't_ include our suits. Become friends. I thought we were before, but I'm just now realizing how naive that was. It's about time we got to really know each other. We can do lunch."

One corner of Steve's mouth lifted. "Like a date?"

"A lunch date," Tony said, eyes narrowing as he saw the laughter Steve was barely holding back, "platonic, obviously. I mean, you're with -"

Steve's eyes widened. They needed to learn more about each other, but _this_ was probably a bridge too far. "We don't have to -"

"It's a little odd for me to -

" - unnecessary, and really weird, because he wants me to date other -"

" - _really_ , I don't need to know." Tony blinked heavily at Steve, a considering look crossing his face. "Really? He wants you to... _nope_ ," he finished, shaking his head. "no, I don't want to know. Any of that. Ever."

Steve grinned, looking down at the carpet, wondering how different this conversation had gone in his head. Feeling like there was some kind of decision, he looked back up at Tony with an honest expression on his face. "I _do_ think you're a good man, Tony. You're not your father. Or Stane."

Tony held Steve's gaze. "Yeah, you're not that bad yourself. A little misguided from time to time," he said, lips slanting when Steve threw him a look, "but as long as we're honest with each other one-hundred percent of the time, even when the truth is ugly, we'll be alright."

Snorting, Steve nodded. "We'll probably argue a lot."

"Wouldn’t imagine it being any other way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Which are you today?  
> The cat who gets hit and doesn't see it coming...  
> ... or the one in the dark, hiding and waiting for the right time to strike?  
> Claws out. Teeth bared and hissing. Knock the obstacles to happiness out of the way.  
> 


	12. Tread Lightly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Bucky navigate their meetings, while Steve and Tony help Thor with a problem. (It involves mermaids...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> For real? You guys are amazing.  
> Rushing home to post this for you makes every Monday bearable.  
> This is a happier chapter. A brief respite from the darkness, but a respite none the less.  
> I'm taking my parents to see End Game tomorrow.  
> I'm going to cry for another three hours, but I'll worry about that later.  
> Let's kick this week's ass!  
>   
> 

_And I will tread lightly_  
_You're a bunch of broken pieces that might need_  
_Some putting back together, so don't leave_  
_'Cause I can make it better, tread lightly_  


**Tread Lightly - Forest Blakk**

_Him_ getting on the elevator was routine now. Darcy’d come to expect it. Gone were the days of morning dance warm ups, replaced with icy indifference. She’d tried smiling, and she’d tried saying hello, and all it’d gotten her was a blink of those slate-grey eyes and the acknowledgment that he wasn’t alone in the elevator.

_Close my eyes_  
Let the whole thing pass me by  
There is no time to waste asking why  
I'll run away with you by my side  
I need to let go of this pride 

This time when the doors opened, she kept her eyes cast down at the floor, the music in her ears loud enough to drown out anything else. Dinner with Thor and Jane had been fun, but she _had_ felt like a third wheel, just like she always did. They’d gone out of their way to include her in the conversation, and though it’d been nice to get out of the tower for a little while, she’d known they were just biding their time until they could attack each other in private.

_I think about your face and how I fall into your eyes_  
The outline that I trace around the one that I call mine  
Time that called for space  
Unclear where you drew the line  
I don't need to solve this case  
And I don't need to look behind 

Jane had been nearly inconsolable when she’d decided that the long-distance thing just wasn’t working, telling Thor that he needed to find someone else. Darcy’d held her best friend as she sobbed, her own heart breaking for Jane and the loss she was feeling. There’d never been a lack of love between Jane and Thor, anyone who knew them could see it, but if cross _country_ dating was hard, cross _realm_ dating was like the Olympic games of dating. Or the _Norse_ games of dating.

_Do I expect to change the past I hold inside_  
With all the words I say repeating over in my mind  
Some things you can't erase no matter how hard you try  
An exit to escape is all there is left to find 

In any case, after Odin had passed and Asgard had been destroyed, Thor had returned, telling Jane that he didn’t want anyone else, that she was the only one in his heart and that that would never change. It was romantic, and tender, and it’d rekindled their relationship. Darcy wasn’t exactly sure how it would work out, but _fuck_ did she want them to be happy. The fact that her best friend could maybe, possibly, one day, be _Queen_ of Asgard filled Darcy with excited butterflies.

_Close my eyes_  
Let the whole thing pass me by  
There is no time to waste asking why  
I'll run away with you by my side  
I need to let go of this pride  
Until this echo can subside 

If Thor _did_ take her suggestion and reach out to Wakanda and their king, maybe -

Darcy blinked, focus lifting from the floor, gaze swinging until she realized Barnes was looking at her, an expectant look on his face. Realizing he’d said something to her - and ignoring the flip of her stomach at the fact that he was talking to her in the first place - Darcy pulled out one of her earbuds. “Huh? What?”

“I’m Bucky.”

Eyelashes brushing against her glasses as she continued to blink at him, Darcy realized she hadn’t responded for several seconds longer than was normal. “I know,” she blurted out, awkward connections in her brain seemingly stealing her ability to speak. She watched a frown pull his lips before he turned his back to her again. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn his shoulders had tightened at her words. 

Before she could attempt to respond with an appropriate greeting, the doors had opened on his floor and he’d slipped away. One earbud still dangled free as she let out a small sigh. “All you had to do was say ‘ _Hi, I’m Darcy_ ’. What the fuck is so hard about that?”

_I need to let go of this pride  
Until this echo in my mind  
Until this echo can subside_

The second Bucky stepped into the elevator, he could tell something was different. Normally he could count on the small smile on her face. The woman with the dark hair that seemed to keep as regular a schedule as he did. He’d come to expect seeing those hazel eyes of hers behind the thick-rimmed glasses, so when he took a step into the elevator and she didn’t even look up, he found himself frowning.

Bucky punched the button for his and Steve’s floor. He’d noted that she always got off on the floor above his, which meant they had a pretty long ride together every day. Except for the weekends. Those days he rode alone. He’d found himself wondering if she had normal weekends like all the other nine-to-fivers.

In fact, he’d found himself wondering about her quite a bit. It wasn’t _just_ curiosity at what she did that meant she had Avenger’s level clearance, like he’d tried to tell himself in the beginning. It was more than just questions about security. It was wondering about _her_. He didn’t even know her name, but she’d been the only other person in the tower who’d looked at him without a hint of fear in their eyes.

Not that he _saw_ a lot of other people. Which was by design. He wasn’t here to make friends. He was here to work. To keep people safe. To atone for the sins of his past. Making friends was the last thing on his to-do list. Yet here he was, thinking about what had changed to make her look so lost in thought.

Breath huffing out a bit, Bucky didn’t turn all the way, but opened his body just enough that his back wasn’t to her. “My name is Bucky,” he said, voice rough with the first words he’d said all morning.

Darcy didn’t look up at him, teeth chewing on her bottom lip, her hazel eyes lost in thought. He shifted on his feet, the movement drawing her gaze to him. Surprise lit her face and he watched as she pulled one of the buds from her ears. “Huh? What?”

“I’m Bucky,” he repeated, watching her blink at him for several moments. 

“I know.”

When she continued to blink at him and offer nothing else, Bucky’s shoulders tightened and he turned back to face the doors. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but those two words told him more than enough. _Of course_ she knew who he was. Which meant she knew what he’d done. He wasn’t sure what he’d hoped for. His entire history had been laid bare for the entire world to see, in all its horrible, visceral truth, and it made perfect sense that someone would want to distance themselves from a brainwashed ex-assassin who had come down with a horrible case of agoraphobia.

The second the elevator doors opened, Bucky took himself out of the situation. He couldn’t explain why those two _simple_ words had torn through his coping mechanisms and sent him into a tailspin. It was Friday, which meant he’d have two full days to analyze every expression on her face in minute detail before he had to face her again.

When Darcy pushed through the doors to the lab, the quiet instantly raised the hair on the back of her neck. She wasn't sure where Jane was, and her eyes swept the room, looking for any clues that would tell her where the astrophysicist had gone. She was already thrown off kilter from the elevator ride she'd just experienced, and not knowing where Jane was only made her internal dissonance worse. _I swear, I'm going to get her a damn bell._ Darcy let out a shout, nearly dropping the cup of tea in her hand, when Jane appeared out of nowhere at her side. "Jesus mother fuck!"

"Language," Jane growled, crossing toward the couch and taking a heavy seat. She blinked heavy brown eyes at Darcy, not sure why her best friend was still standing there, to-go cup in hand, chewing on her lower lip. "What's up? What's that face?"

A sigh huffed past Darcy's lips, shoulders sagging. "I may have done something stupid."

"This is not news."

Darcy's eyes narrowed in Jane's direction. "Shut up." When the other woman looked at her with expectation, Darcy set the steaming tea on the desk and dropped her bag near her feet. "So, I've been, I mean, we haven't really _talked_ yet, but he's on the elevator every morning with me, and -"

Jane held up a hand, stopping the verbal diarrhea she knew Darcy was about to come down with. "I'm exhausted. Use smaller, easier words to understand."

Rolling her eyes, Darcy crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the work table. "I ride the elevator up here every morning with James Barnes."

Eyebrows furrowing, Jane sat up a bit straighter. "The Winter Soldier?"

"Yeah."

" _Every_ morning?"

"Most of them, yeah."

"Wow."

"I know. And he's always sweaty." Jane's dark eyebrow raise was the only response Darcy received. "I think he works out? Maybe? He gets in the elevator on the lower floors, and I'm almost positive it's where the gyms are. I wasn't really paying much attention during that part of the tour because, who the hell am I kidding? _I'm_ going to use the gyms? I don't think so. It doesn't matter. I just noticed he's always sweaty."

"Does he smell?"

Of all the things she'd expected Jane to ask, that would _not_ have been on her list. "Uhhhh, what?"

"I mean does he smell funky," Jane explained, "from, you know, the working out?"

"No," Darcy said, an incredulous expression on her face as it colored her words, "but I also haven't gotten close enough to _sniff_ him, you damn weirdo."

"You should. What's the worst that could happen?"

Darcy's surprised laugh echoed around the room. "Jane, you're a theoretical astrophysicist. Your _job_ is planning for every variable. How do you _think_ sniffing an ex-assassin would go?"

A look of quiet consideration lit Jane's eyes, and it took her a few seconds before she shrugged her shoulder. "Point taken."

"Thank you," Darcy said with a shake of her head.

"So. You're in the elevator. With the winter soldier. Not talking. Not talking?"

"I said hello a few days ago, but he didn't say anything back."

Jane frowned. "Rude."

"Then today, he introduced himself."

"That's called progress."

Darcy sighed, "yeah, except I just said ' _I know_.' And not in a cool ' _I know and I'm Han Solo_ ' type way, but a ' _I'll just stand here with a stupid look on my face_ ’ type way."

Jane clicked her tongue and shook her head, pulling her legs under herself as she looked at Darcy. "You know nothing, Darcy Lewis."

Eyes widening in surprise, Darcy's arms fell to her sides. "Are you kidding me? A pop culture reference? From _you_? Fuck, you must be tired."

"It was a bad night."

"Ok," Darcy said, real concern turning her eyes. She took the moment to take stock of her best friend, and the tired look on her face. While there were no bags under her eyes, Darcy could tell Jane wasn't working at one-hundred percent. She grabbed a stool and wheeled herself closer. "Tell me about it."

"I'd rather just go to sleep," Jane yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.

Jumping back to her feet, Darcy reached out to grab the tea she'd left behind. "First, drink your tea. Second, just sum it up for me, give me something to work with, and then we'll get you some mattress time."

Jane sat back on the couch, taking a long sip of the honey-flavored tea before her eyes cleared a bit, her mind turning to the task at hand. "I was trying to track any specific traces of the molecular anomalies that we found in Louisiana, but they're... traveling."

Confusion colored Darcy's face. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ that I've been able to track the cosmic energy from here to..." Jane trailed off, her hand gesturing uselessly through the air, "... out there."

Darcy's eyebrows lifted. "Okay, you _must_ be exhausted if you can't even science right."

"It's moving."

Lips pulling down, Darcy tried her best to decipher what Jane was saying. "So you mean it's on another planet?"

"I mean it's _throughout_ the galaxy. That's why we haven't been able to zero in on it. Because it's _moving_."

Darcy stood there, looking at Jane, her mind working. "Can't you use, like, galaxy GPS? Track where it's been and try to predict where it's going?" Jane's brown eyes blinked at Darcy, something in her whiskey-gaze making Darcy unsure why she'd suddenly taken so much of Jane's attention. "What?" When Jane popped up and began toward the whiteboard, Darcy jumped to her feet, shaking her head, fingers curling around Jane’s upper arm and turning her back toward the door. " _Ooooop_ , nope, you're going to bed."

"But I just had a thought -"

"And that thought will be there when you get up. Come on, loser. Time for sleeps."

"Fine," Jane said with a groan, letting Darcy steer her out of the lab and toward their rooms. "fine, we'll figure my thing out later, but what about your thing?"

Darcy glanced over at her. "What thing?"

"The sweaty elevator man."

"Oh. That."

Jane raised an eyebrow when Darcy cast her uncertain attention toward the floor. "Yeah."

"Uh, well, I guess I should apologize," Darcy reasoned, looking over at Jane for confirmation and getting a nod of her head. "Tell him that I didn't mean _'I know'_ in a bad way, just that I was surprised he spoke to me in the first place."

"He might need a friend. Did you read what happened to him?"

A bit of the light dimmed in Darcy's eyes as her mind recalled what had been reported in the papers. She knew there had to have been some kind of bias, not to mention what had been kept under wraps due to national security, but what she _had_ read was bad enough. "Yeah, I read it."

"Seems like someone who's been through that much might be _looking_ for someone to have elevator small talk with him."

Though that didn't really seem like something the man she barely knew would want, Darcy supposed weirder things had happened. "Maybe."

"And, if you get close enough, _that's_ when you can smell him."

As they pushed through the door to their shared living space, Darcy couldn't help the disbelieving shake of her head. "You are a very weird, tiny little geek, you know that?"

"Thank you."

As the elevator doors closed, Darcy’s eyes flicked up toward the number display, counting in her head. In a few seconds, the car would slow, and the doors would open, and Barnes would be there, those pale gray eyes swinging up to hers like they always did. _This time_ , though, she would be ready.

Her discussion with Jane from Friday had highlighted how she’d utterly failed at being a courteous human being. She’d fumbled through telling him ‘hello’, she’d made a mess of him introducing himself, and she _refused_ to embarrass herself any further. He was just a man. Just a dude. A pretty guy, but still just a guy. The fact that he was covered in sweat didn’t really matter - though it did make her brain short circuit a little - and as the car got closer to the floor that housed the gym he always used, Darcy’s toe tapped out an anxious rhythm.

_Remember those walls I built_  
Well, baby, they're tumbling down  
And they didn't even put up a fight  
They didn't even make a sound 

The last thing she wanted for Barnes was to feel like she’d judged him. What was done to him was unthinkable, something she couldn’t wrap her head around, too horrific and terrifying. Her heart ached for a man she’d barely spoken to. It wasn’t uncommon for her to become emotionally attached to someone so quickly; she’d been willing to jump in front of a bullet for Jane after only knowing the scientist for three hours.

Darcy made friends quick, and made those friends _family_ even quicker. Her mother’s rotating group of friends had been her aunts and uncles regardless of blood, coming to every dance recital and choir performance. Even after her mother had died, they’d been sprinkled in the audience, coming up afterward to tell her how proud her mother would have been, how much she looked like Abigail Lewis.

_It's like I've been awakened  
Every rule I had, you break them  
It's the risk that I'm -_

Chewing on the string of her hoodie, a nervous habit she’d never been able to break, Darcy took a deep breath when the car slowed to a stop. She reached up and pulled the earbuds from around her shoulders, stuffing them in the front pocket of her _Culver University_ sweatshirt. She took a step back, then shook her head and returned, not wanting him to think she was backing away from him.

As the doors opened, Darcy waited for him to look up at her before the torrent of words began to spew forth from her lips. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said, watching surprise color his eyes, “I mean, when I said that I know who you are.” He hadn’t moved from his place outside the elevator, stopped by her words, but she continued. “It’s just that you’re, you know, _you_ , and with the news and stuff…”

His eyes lost a bit of their shine, and Darcy cringed internally, desperate to fix it. “Not that that’s all you are, obviously, I know you’re more than that, I just meant that I know who you are, but if you wanted to introduce yourself to me again, that’d be okay.” The doors to the elevator began to close and he lifted his hand, pushing them back open, but still not taking a step forward. There appeared to be a war raging behind his gaze, and Darcy held her breath, fully expecting him to let the doors close on her awkwardness.

“I’m still Bucky,” Bucky said after a few seconds of silence. Her soft laughter made one corner of his mouth turn up.

“Yeah, I figured that much,” Darcy said with another breathless laugh. He wasn’t smiling at her, not really, but the fact that he hadn’t left her and her embarrassment behind made some of the nerves in her stomach settle. She moved to the side, giving him enough room to enter the car.

*

Surprise was still pinging through him as Bucky moved to stand beside her. When she’d begun talking before he’d even had time to understand what was happening, he’d been thrown off guard, something that didn’t happen very often. Over the course of the weekend, his thoughts had turned to her and their regular elevator schedule, and he’d found himself growing anxious about it all. He’d debated, _heavily_ , whether he should just change his schedule so they no longer ran into each other.

However, he could hear Princess Shuri’s words in his ears, telling him routine and schedule was incredibly important, and he’d been faced with the fact that, come Monday morning, she’d be there. Waiting. He’d assumed silence would become their new normal, and had prepared himself for it, which was why he was so confused by her torrent of words. Her body language was open, friendly, and Bucky found himself relaxing slightly. “And you are?”

“Oh, shit, sorry, yeah, that’s usually how normal people talk. I’m Darcy Lewis. I’m the assistant to Jane Foster. We’ve got the science lab the floor above yours.”

_Darcy Lewis_. He finally had a name for the face who’d popped into his daily routine over the past few weeks. It didn’t ring a bell, but the second he got back to their rooms, he would be looking up whatever he could find on her. “Ah. You a scientist?”

“Scientist wrangler,” she corrected, watching him glance over at her with confusion furrowing his eyebrows. “Scientists, whatever their flavor, tend to have neurosis and particularities that need addressing. That’s where I come in. I make sure Janey eats, and showers, and then try to make sense of her notes. In general, I just keep things running smoothly. She’s got the degree, I get the mess.”

She was giving him so much information, enough that Bucky could tell it’d never been used against her; people who’d been burned kept their lips tighter, never going into specifics, keeping everything vague. It appeared she’d not learned that particular lesson yet. It was refreshing, honestly, and Bucky found himself nodding. “Sounds like a difficult job.”

“Nah,” Darcy said with a dismissive wave of her hand, his eyes tracking the limb as it swished through the air, “my mom was a scientist so I’ve been doing it since I was a babe. Lots of practice. It’s second-nature at this point.” When things went quiet in the car again, Darcy shifted her weight awkwardly. They’d introduced themselves and even had a hint of small talk, and _part_ of Darcy wanted to count it as the win it was and let that be that, but another part wanted to push. “What do you do?”

When Bucky looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, a sullen retort on the tip of his tongue, he could see the honesty in her hazel gaze. She could have probably put two and two together, but as she blinked at him with the slightest tint of expectation, the snark he’d had loaded faded away. “Security,” he said finally, watching her chin lift before she nodded.

“Oooh, yeah, that’s important. I’ve got my badge,” she said with a grin, flashing the square tech before slipping it back in her pocket. “Technology these days, am I right? Changes all the time. Probably more so for you, I suppose. Lot of updates in the past seventy years.” _Jesus, Lewis. Fuck._

“Just a few,” Bucky said, her soft huff of laughter oddly comforting. His eyes glanced at the numbers as the elevator climbed. He crossed his arms over his chest and opened his body, taking a step back so he could see her face. “What do you guys do up in the lab?”

Darcy blinked in surprise. She’d been certain that after her question the conversation would peter out, and the fact that _he_ was asking questions now had caught her off guard. She let her breath hiss out, grimacing as she turned and gave him an apologetic expression. “It’s redacted?” When he rose one dark eyebrow at her, she shrugged a shoulder. “I just mean we signed an NDA and I’m not actually allowed to discuss it. I know not everyone loves a mystery, but my hands are tied.”

Bucky’s eyes darted forward, wondering if what she said was true or if she was just messing with him. He forced himself to push the darker thoughts away, figuring if her _name_ wasn’t even on the books and Stark had gone to all the trouble of keeping her hidden, it had to be for a pretty good reason. It wasn’t her fault, and she didn’t seem like the kind of person to hold back information just for the hell of it. 

Giving her the benefit of the doubt, something he’d never been good at, Bucky nodded toward her. “Speaking of hands, I see one of yours is empty.”

Darcy frowned. “Huh?”

“You usually have coffee with you, not just tea.”

“How…?” Darcy followed his finger when it pointed toward the red and yellow cup in her hand and the scribbled ‘English Breakfast’ on the side. Thrown by the fact that he’d noticed, though reasoning it was his job to note things like that, Darcy shook her head, expression darkening slightly. “Yeah, normally I get coffee downstairs in the morning, but they started charging extra for soy milk, which is super dumb. It’s not like it’s my fault I’m lactose intolerant, and trust me, _no one_ wants me to have dairy.”

Bucky nodded, seeing a glint of annoyance coloring her eyes and blushing into her cheeks. Once again, he was struck by how her face hid _nothing_. He’d been around soldiers and spies so long that he’d forgotten that there were people who felt _everything_ and let it rest in their expression for all to see. It was dangerous, and he had half a mind to say something, but it wasn’t his place. He didn’t know this woman, despite how she’d become one of the only people he saw outside of Steve and Natasha, and it wasn’t his job to warn her.

When he went quiet again, this time Darcy let it hang. It didn’t feel as awkward as it had before, the words they’d shared lessening the tension into something companionable, and that made satisfaction burn through her chest. When the car slowed to a stop at his floor, she watched his arms drop to his side, his grey eyes sliding toward her. “Same time tomorrow?”

The grin she was pointing at him was bright, her question friendly, and despite himself and all the experiences he carried that warned him not to, Bucky felt his lips give a twitch of a smile. “It was nice to meet you, Darcy.”

“Ditto,” she said, giving him a small wave as he made his way out the doors. Her eyes followed him as he turned to the left, looking back at her over his shoulder and giving her a nod. As the doors closed, Darcy couldn’t help the small squeak of success that flew past her lips. It wasn’t like it was a game to her, trying to get Barnes to say a friendly word, but the fact that it’d _worked_ sure as hell felt like a success. She couldn’t wait to tell Jane.

Steve glanced up when the door to his office opened, frowning as there'd been no knock announcing who was out there. He had the split second thought that it was probably Tony before he was vindicated and the engineer pushed his way inside. He _was_ surprised that it wasn't _just_ Tony, and he rose to his feet when Thor entered behind Stark. Steve held out his hand, grinning as the Asgardian nodded at him. "Thor, I didn't know you were back."

Tony fell into one of the seats in front of Steve's desk, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ziplock bag of dried berries. "He's not back. Not really."

"Stark is correct," Thor said, returning Steve's handshake, "I have returned but I do not think I can stay long."

"The big man wants to talk to the two of us." When Steve's eyes slid his way, Tony tipped his head back and threw a handful of fruit into his mouth, shrugging his shoulder.

Eyes lingering on Tony, wondering how the man could exude nonchalance even when it was clear _something_ was happening behind that brown gaze, Steve turned back to Thor. "Something you need?"

"As you are both aware, Asgard is no longer. Myself, my brother, Valkyrie, and Heimdall have been searching for a place to settle our people, but we have been unsuccessful. After speaking with a friend, she made the suggestion that I, perhaps, reach out to King T'Challa of Wakanda. I have never met the man myself, and I would not want to cause any diplomatic tension, therefore I believe having an envoy will assist my mission."

"What mission?"

"Oh," Tony said, lips slanting when Steve looked over at him, "you're going to love this part."

When Steve turned his attention away from Tony and back his way, Thor set Mjolnir on the desk and took a seat, his expression one of uncertainty. "As I said, a friend suggested I reach out to Wakanda, that they may be able to help us find a new home. Perhaps here, on Midgard."

Steve frowned, "you want to take over some of Wakanda's land?"

"Nope," Tony said with a shake of his head, popping the 'p', the smirk still on his face, "not in Wakanda."

"I don't understand."

"My kingdom is now small, numbering under two thousand. If we could find refuge here, and build a home for me and my people, I was told that Wakanda may be able to help."

"I still don't -"

"Thor wants to be a mermaid," Tony interrupted, not bothering to keep the amusement from his voice or expression.

When Steve looked over at him with widened eyes, Thor shifted in his chair. "That is _not_ what I wish. Besides, I would not be a mer _maid_ , I would be a ..." His expression darkened, "... a mer _man_." 

"Okay," Steve said, retaking his seat behind his desk as Tony snorted softly, "I'm still not understanding."

"Over seventy percent of Earth's land is underwater. Thor wants to ask the Kitty King if they could assist with building an underwater paradise."

Blinking in surprise, Steve swung his attention back to Thor. "You want to live underwater?"

"It is not ideal, but if we could construct some kind of dome under your oceans, keeping the Asgardians hidden from the rest of your world, I believe our two people could peacefully coexist."

Steve tried to wrap his mind around what Thor was suggesting. He knew the plight of the Asgardians weighed heavily on the shoulders of the man sitting across from him, but Steve wasn't sure exactly how it would work. "You'd be refugees looking for a settlement," he said, fingers lifting to scratch at his beard.

Tony stuffed his baggie of treats back in his pocket, sitting forward in his chair. "The law of the sea used to say that as long as something's more than three miles away from any government-owned land, the ocean is the property of everyone. It's -"

"- international waters, yeah," Steve finished, nodding, "but that changed in nineteen-ninety four." When Tony gave him an impressed eyebrow raise, Steve ignored his desire to roll his eyes. "Under S.H.I.E.L.D. I was sent out to police ships. I took a look at the law."

"Bottom line, if the Asgardians want to take a deep dive and find a little continental shelf to live on, it'd be theirs to take." 

"Would that still apply? Seeing as they're not human?"

"You know, it's a funny thing," Tony said, eyes flashing, "this would have been great for someone to put into the New Accords. Oh wait. It _was_ in them. Under Section nine, subsection fifty-nine point two. 'Non-terrestrial refugees.' It would take a bit for the details to be worked out, but if Thor, as acting king of his people, signed a peace treaty with the world council, it could be arranged."

Steve considered what Tony was stating. Technically they _would_ qualify as refugees, regardless whether or not those refugees were terrestrial, but the politics of the situation were well beyond his personal knowledge. He was more than willing to play devil's advocate, though, because he knew several senators who would be asking the hard questions, too. "Let's say they’re declared refugees, and Thor signs a peace treaty, there would still be the task of _creating_ a home for them under the ocean."

Thor nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, an uncertain tint in his azure gaze. "I have seen your hellicarriers and the might of your ships and submarines. I do not want to give my people hope if there is none, thus wishing to discuss it personally before suggesting it to the rest of Asgard. Would you accompany me to Wakanda so I can appeal for King T’Challa’s assistance?"

Tony shrugged his shoulder. "You'd be better off bowing down to his younger sister, Shuri. She's the mind behind their tech."

Unable to argue with Tony's suggestion, as he knew first hand how incredible the teenage scientist was, Steve leaned forward on his desk. "Regardless of who makes it physically possible, it'd still be a foreign nation claiming land and resources that belong to everyone under international law. There will be people in the government who'll fight it."

The snort from Tony was heartfelt as he leveled his gaze at the soldier behind the desk. "Steve Rogers backing down from a fight? Now I've seen everything."

"I'm not saying the fight wouldn't be worth it," Steve said, directing a frown in Tony's direction, "I'm just preparing for the consequences. Better to come up with answers to the tough questions now."

Thor sat forward in his seat, his expression one of careful expectation. "My people are looking for a home, Steve. I know that meetings between my realm and yours have not always been friendly, but I believe as allies we could see to the betterment of all."

Able to hear the god's worry and concern thick in his voice, Steve was quiet for a moment. Letting the air out of his lungs slowly, Steve glanced over at the engineer. "You think it's possible?"

"Anything’s possible." When the expression on Steve's face shifted toward annoyance, Tony rolled his eyes. "Like I said, politically and legally it could be worked out. The law's already there in place. Physically? That's outside even _my_ abilities."

"But not Shuri's?"

"She's one of the smartest minds on the planet. If anyone could figure it out _and_ have all the necessary tech to actually do it? It'd be her."

Steve looked back toward Thor, his face in thoughtful lines. He couldn't imagine what Thor and the rest of the Asgardians were going through, searching and searching for a place to call home and continually coming up empty. Thor had helped protect the planet right alongside the rest of the team, and helping him and his people seemed like the right thing to do. If it was possible, and if Tony was right that they had legal protection, it was the _least_ they could do. "I can reach out to T'Challa."

Thor rose to his feet, a smile breaking on his face. "My people and I will be your debt." When Steve stood, he shook the soldier's hand before turning to Tony and doing the same.

Tony looked back and forth between the two of them. "When did we want to pull the trigger on this? Sooner the better?"

"Yes, please, my people have suffered long enough."

"Then I'll talk it over with Rhodey. He might have something to say about it."

Steve's eyebrows knit together. "Colonel Rhodes?"

Tony's grin turned crooked. "If I have my way, he won't just be a 'colonel' in the next few years."

The idea of Rhodes as an elected official was interesting, but the way Tony had worded it made it seem like it was a done deal. "Has he said he wants to run for office?"

The smirk on Tony’s face grew wider. "Not yet."

Thor reached out and squeezed Tony’s shoulder, earning a small hiss from the engineer. "Any help he is willing to provide will be welcome. He has proven a valuable friend."

Shifting out of Thor’s grip, Tony punched the god lightly on the shoulder. "Good. Great. Don't go far, Point Break. This might snowball pretty quickly."

"That is the hope. Asgard thanks you both." Thor shook both of their hands again before grabbing Mjolnir and exiting Steve's office.

When the door fell closed, Steve sat, attention swinging back to Tony. The billionaire's attention seemed to have slipped, his expression one of consideration, and Steve cleared his throat and drew Tony’s dark eyes toward him. "You think it's a good idea?"

"They're refugees, Steve. This country used to care about more than just the people born on home soil. Seems about time we start again."

"I agree."

The theatrical widening of Tony's eyes was timed perfectly. "I'd say I was shocked, but I seem to remember that your mom came through Ellis Island."

Surprise rocketed through Steve. He couldn't remember ever discussing his mother's immigrant background with Tony, which meant the man had to have learned about it somewhere else. He could have assumed Tony had heard about it from Howard, but little by little, he was starting to understand why Tony held such contempt for a father who hadn't truly been there for him. After their previous conversation regarding getting to know each other, it made Steve’s hopes of a return to friendship grow. "Yes, my mother migrated from Ireland."

"Imagine how different the world would have been if she'd been denied entry. Not something I'd want to think too closely on." Tony climbed to his feet, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "Let me know what T'Challa says. I want to be there when Shuri hears the fun she gets to have."

Steve rose to his feet as well. "I didn't know you knew her that well."

Tony shrugged his shoulders. "We've sent emails back and forth. It'll be nice to meet her in person."

"And get a look at all the things she's working on?"

Looking at the soldier, Tony couldn't help a softly guilty smile that curled his lips. "That'd be a bonus, sure, but not the reason. She helped me figure out a better way to help Rhodey with his injuries."

Steve nodded, averting his eyes, a stab of guilt gripping his chest. He knew that the only reason Colonel Rhodes had been hurt was because of what had gone down at the airport. Even though he still felt that he'd made the right call, Steve was able to see how much that injury had hurt the other soldier, _and_ the man standing in front of him. "So you owe her one?"

"I owe her more than that," Tony said, no hint of his normal flippancy, "but this would be a start."

"I'll let you know if we get a meeting with the king and his council." Steve watched something pass behind Tony's gaze, but the other man thought better of verbalizing it, just giving Steve a curt nod before starting back toward the door. "Hey, Tony?" When the engineer turned back to look at him, a small grin climbed onto Steve's face. "You're going to call him a mermaid, aren't you?"

"Every damn time I see him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change.  
> It happens whether you want it to or not.   
> Too much change at one time can be scary.  
> Or invigorating.  
> It's your choice.  
> We can try out best to control change, but sometimes giving in is the solution.  
> Be like water.   
> Flow and form yourself to the challenge.  
> Waves can be rejuvenating, or they can be as hard as a brick.  
> The choice is yours.


	13. Warning Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> You wonderful readers never cease to blow my mind.  
> Thank you for all the kudos, and comments, and shares/reblogs on Tumblr.  
> I don't write for the comments, but to know people feel as strongly about these characters?  
> Amazing!  
> <3 <3 <3  
> Let's do this!  
>   
> 

_What you do works for a time_  
_Until you drop without a warning sign_  
_If you keep going on like this_  
_I'll be one more thing for you to miss_  


**Sure and Certain - Jimmy Eat World**

“Did you have a good weekend?”

Though she’d grinned at Bucky when he’d climbed onto the elevator, Darcy was surprised by his question. It was friendly, sounded comfortable, and the fact that _he_ was the first to speak made a shiver of happiness travel up her spine. Maybe they’d moved past the awkward embarrassment and were headed toward something better. “Uh, yeah, it was pretty good. I wish it hadn’t rained, but the sky does not listen to me. I have connections, though. Maybe next time I’ll call in a favor.”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, her cheerful voice this early in the morning somehow waking him up more than his workout had. “Connections?”

Darcy laughed, waving a hand through the air. “Oh, yeah, me and my partner, we’ve worked with Thor in the past.”

Bucky nodded, taking more information from that one sentence than he had in all their other meetings. The fact that she’d worked with Thor explained why she had the high clearance. He’d heard Steve talk fondly of the lightning maker, though he hadn’t met the Asgardian himself. In his head, Bucky ran through the layout of the floors the Avengers called their own. He’d tried to find information on the floor above his and Steve’s, since that was where she was stationed, but it was as she’d told him before: it was redacted.

Whatever they were working on was being kept on the black books, completely secure, and if she’d worked _that closely_ with Thor before, it meant she was considered important. Important enough that not even _he_ was able to access the security footage for the area. It was possible Steve had access to what he wanted to look at, but he hesitated telling Steve about the woman who'd become a steady fixture in his life. He and Darcy rode an elevator together each morning. It didn't seem like the kind of thing he needed to tell his best friend about.

Eyebrows furrowing, Bucky narrowed his eyes at the headphones Darcy'd draped around her neck. Whatever she was listening to was still playing, and he could hear it from where he was standing. He knew part of that had to do with his improved listening abilities, but even without taking those into account, the sound was blasting loudly. "What do you listen to on those things?"

Darcy blinked, following his line of sight toward her chest. It took her a moment before she realized what he was talking about, grabbing the cord to her earbuds and pulling them free. "Oh, uh, it's mostly newer music. Do you, I mean, _like_ things like that?" _Sweet Christmas, Lewis, could you be any more awkward?_

Trying to figure out if she was being serious or just messing with him, Bucky nodded softly. "Sure."

Checking to make sure she was giving him the right one, she held one of the earbuds out to him, taking a step closer as she put the other in her own ear. The close proximity meant she could feel the heat of his body and hear his breathing. When the current song came to an end and the next one began to play, Darcy couldn't help the smile that lifted her lips.

_I've got a life out there somewhere_  
_It's waiting_  
_Lined with palm trees and only new faces_  
_If I could look past the present and get there_  
_Oh baby, it's worth a shot_  


Bucky'd tried not to tighten his shoulders as she'd moved closer, reminding himself that _he'd_ been the one to ask about the music in the first place. If Darcy meant him any harm, she'd hidden it incredibly well, and could have struck countless times. Deciding to focus on the music instead of his tenuous grasp on social anxiety, Bucky placed the device in his ear. The music was leaps and bounds past what he and Steve had grown up with, but the beat was catchy and the singer's voice was powerful. His gaze flicked up toward Darcy's face, able to read the enjoyment in her body. It lit her hazel eyes, and he noticed that one of her irises had more brown in it than the other. He wasn't sure he'd met someone who expressed so much with just their eyes. 

_Just enough time to plan an escape route_  
_I put my map on the wall in the basement_  
_Not quite a victory to run from your problems_  
_But it's the only plan that I got_  
_It's the only plan that I got_  


Darcy had never met anyone who actually cared about the music she liked; most of the time, when she'd been espousing eloquently about how live performances were a thing of beauty and akin to works of art, Janey and Selvig had rolled their eyes with affection. It was why she'd been so angry and left bereft when Agent Coulson had _stolen_ her iPod. There were _years_ of music she'd carefully curated, and the loss had been heartfelt. It was entirely possible that Barnes didn't really _care_ about the music and had been placating her, but when she glanced in his direction, something told her that it wasn't something he'd fake.

_Oh oh oh oh!_  
_I'm in all the echoes that have faded out, so_  
_Not quite a victory to run from your problems_  
_I'm moving on 'cause I just want to feel for once that I belong_  
_That's what's going on_  


Bucky found himself a little off balance. Between the music in his ear, the feel of the elevator rising, and his elevated heart rate since Darcy was so close, he could feel anxiety biting up and down his arms. He closed his eyes, focusing on the music and attempting to block everything else out. It wasn't often that he found himself with the ability to ignore his surroundings, and if he was anywhere else, with any _one_ else, it would have been impossible. Here, though, with Darcy, he felt himself narrow his thoughts, until there was nothing except the drums and lyrics. 

_Crossed the state line and called out a warning_  
_Not too long now, I'll breathe California_  
_Paid my dues and I tried to be loyal_  
_But now I'm done with all that_  
_Where I'm going is everyone's story_  
_We want_  
_You left_  
_We're left to start over_  
_It's not a question of who are we really_  
_It's who we want to be_  


She could practically _see_ his shoulders relax, no longer bunched around his ears. When his eyes fell closed, Darcy was unable to look away. He wasn't a big smiler, at least from what she'd seen, but the _lack_ of an expression on Bucky's face stuck in her throat. It wasn't like he was always scowling, but he was always _on_ , always tense, eyes always darting around and taking in as much information as he could.

The peace that seemed to have lowered his eyebrows was intoxicating, and Darcy felt herself moving even closer. Hearing Jane's voice in her ear, she took in a deep breath, pulling his scent inside her lungs. He _did_ smell of sweat as she'd imagined, a hint of salt underneath, but mostly she just smelled spice. Spice and _boy_. It smelled good. Really good. She wondered if it was from his shampoo or deodorant, or if it was just _him_. Darcy ignored the desire to roll her eyes at herself. She liked the way he smelled? _For fuck's sake._

_All that's in between_  
_A brand new life and I is time_  
_But time has not been kind_  
_It's not been kind to me_  
_It's winding backwards_  
_Time has not been kind_  
_It's crawling by so slowly_  


Bucky felt the elevator come to a stop on his floor and when the doors slid open, he lifted his arm and held it in the doorway, making sure to keep them from closing again. It sounded as if the song was building up to an end, and he didn't want to miss it. He blinked his storm-grey eyes open, watching her lips when Darcy grinned at him. She was always so upbeat, optimistic, and he wasn't sure how she held onto it so easily. She always had a smile on her face, bright enough that it could blind him first thing in the morning, especially when he wasn't feeling one-hundred percent sure. Her glow seemed to beat back a bit of his darkness. 

_And if you try to find me now_  
_Oh oh oh oh_  
_I'm in all the echoes that have faded out, so_  
_I'm moving on 'cause I just want to feel for once that I belong_  
_And that's what's going on_  


As the next song began to play, he pulled the bud from his ear and held it out to her, lips twitching upward. There was something in her hazel gaze that made him hesitate, not sure why he wasn't ready to leave her space just yet. He couldn't stay in the elevator forever, though, so he nodded his head at her and stepped through the doors. He turned back, using his arm to hold the doors open when they began to close again. "Thanks for letting me listen."

“No problem," Darcy said, grinning at him, "I hope you liked it. I have plenty more where that came from.” Barnes' small smile was her reward before he pulled his arm back and the doors stole him from sight. She was left there, grinning down at the floor, marveling at how a few short weeks ago they'd said nothing to each other. Now they were sharing earbuds and musics and talking about their weekends. _I call that a win win!_

"So a little spider told me that you’ve ventured into the scary realm of online dating."

The air in Steve's lungs huffed out, his arms straightening the bar as he shot the man looking down at him a glare. "Oh, she did not."

Sam Wilson laughed, shrugging his shoulders unrepentantly. "Okay, maybe I made up the online details, but she _did_ tell me you've gone out a few times."

Steve lifted the weight stack again. "I want out to a bar on a Friday night."

"And came home the next morning. Wearing the same clothes as the day before."

Eyes narrowing, Steve replaced the bar and its weights, ducking out from underneath it. He shook his head and stood, helping Sam take some of the metal plates off the bar before _he_ slid under the bar. "And how could she possibly know that, let alone pass it onto you?"

"She's a spy, Steve. She used those super spy skills."

" _Mmmmhmmmm,_ " Steve said, the noise dripping with disbelief, "and probably checked the security footage."

Laughing again, Sam wrapped his fingers around the bar, shifting until his shoulders laid flat. He lifted the weight stack, breath hissing past his lips. "Oh, she most _definitely_ did that. So what's up? You start going out and you don't invite me?"

Steve left his fingers under the bar, spotting Sam as he continued his set. "I was clearing my head, just trying to get a little time away."

"Which is harder for you than other people," Sam conceded.

"Actually, if I'm wearing a hat and decide to leave my suit at home, most people look right past me."

They switched spots after adding to the weight for Steve's set. "Look at you, being all clandestine," Sam said, grinning down at his best friend. "And? Did everything live up to your expectations?"

Steve lifted the bar then lowered it to his chest before repeating the motion. "It was good. The old neighborhood has changed. Some of the family names are the same, but almost everyone I grew up with has already moved away. Or died."

Sam shook his head, not bothering with spotting Steve's bar, as there was no way he'd have been able to lift it. "That took a dark turn."

Returning the bar to the bench, Steve sat up. "I'm just trying to get my feet under me. Since we got back, things have been up in the air. I needed to settle first."

"I get that," Sam said, crossing his arms on the bar and cocking his head to the side as he gazed at Steve. "After the ice, and waking up, it's not like you had a lot of free time on your hands."

Thinking of the fog he'd fought through after coming out of the ice, Steve had found himself walking the streets of a city he didn't recognize anymore. He'd tried to test the waters, but between the bereft feeling of loss, and the unfamiliarity, he'd found himself returning to the same place, day after day. After teaming up to fight Loki, he'd found a home, but even that had been in flux. First it was the tower. Then it was the compound in upstate New York. After leaving the shield behind in Siberia, everything had been washed away, and even though they were home now, some part of Steve held himself back. What if things left again? What if they needed to go back on the run? Better to have no attachments that could be uprooted. "You're not wrong."

Removing the extra weight, Sam slid onto the bench. "And what does _he_ think about it?"

Rolling his eyes, knowing exactly who Sam meant, Steve shrugged his shoulder. "It was his idea."

Sam's eyebrows lifted toward his hairline, waiting for Steve's face to give up the ruse. When it didn't, he let his breath out with a shake of his head. "Man, I do _not_ get you two. If Riley had tried to tell me to go out and find someone else, I'd have booted his ass out of a plane. _Without_ his wings."

"It's not easy," Steve said, still unsure about it all himself. "Natasha's been trying to explain how she works it out with Barton."

Sam lifted the bar and held it there, looking up at Steve with a confused expression on his face. "I thought Barton has a wife."

"He does."

"But him and Nat -"

"Are him and Nat," Steve explained, watching Sam pause before lowering the bar to his chest again.

"Wow. She's never said anything."

Steve snorted with laughter. "Because she's normally so forthcoming with details about her life?"

Sam's laughter joined Steve's. "Point taken," he said, setting the bar back down and sliding from under it. He waited until Steve had laid back, lifting the heavier load, before he spoke again. "I guess it boils down to whether or not you're happy."

"I am happy," Steve said, muscles tensing, "with Bucky."

"Then why is he telling you to go out and find someone else?"

Deciding it was too hard to keep the conversation going while they finished their work out, Steve replaced the bar and sat up. "He says he can't give me everything I need."

" _Okay_ ," Sam hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is he right?"

"I..." Steve reached for his towel, wiping at his forehead, blue gaze flicking up toward Sam. "I don't know. It's not like I go through the day thinking about how life could be different if I found someone else. It's taken me a while, but I can see situations where it'd be nice to have someone _outside_ of the team to talk to. And I guess there are some things that I miss about being with a woman."

"Mmmm, yeah, they smell better."

Steve laughed, watching Sam's lips turn up. "That's one thing. Perfume, sure, but also silk stockings. Lipstick. The way they giggle."

Sam rose an eyebrow. "You're telling me Barnes never giggles?"

"Not for a while," Steve answered, looking down at his hands, flexing his fingers. His attention was pulled back toward Sam when the former soldier shifted his weight. It was clear something was on his friend's mind, and Steve frowned. "What is it?"

"How is he doing?"

Surprise lit in Steve's chest at the look on Sam's face. It was concern. Concern for Bucky. Pushing back his uncertainty, one of Steve's shoulders lifted then dropped. "He has good days and bad days. More good than bad, lately."

"That's good."

"He's talking about meeting with one of the therapists on staff. I don't know how it'll go. He doesn't really like talking about what he went through. I know he doesn't like going out in public. If we're not going out on a mission, he just stays here.” 

Sam took a seat beside Steve on the bench, a small sigh passing his lips. "A lot of vets have a touch of agoraphobia. Too many triggers, too many things that overstimulate. I get why he'd want to stay in. Doesn't help that the tower has almost everything a person would ever need."

"Yeah. All this convenience is inconvenient."

Nodding in response, Sam grabbed his bottle of water and took a long drink before holding it out to Steve. "Maybe it _is_ a good thing you're getting out there. The last new friend you got is a pretty cool dude. Loyal. Smart. _Humble._ "

Rolling his eyes, Steve drained the bottle and tossed it aside, stretching his hand to help Sam climb to his feet. "You know, Bucky said nearly the same thing."

"What? Really?"

"Wait, no, now that I'm remembering, I think he said to meet someone who _wasn't_ like the last friend I made."

"Man, forget him. _Everyone_ wants me as a friend."

Thumb scrolling over the screen of her phone as she browsed emails, Darcy let the early-morning coffee house sounds drown into white noise. Normally getting up this early was easy, as she'd always been a morning person, but she'd been up and down all night long with a sore throat and runny nose. In her cold-induced stupor, she'd searched through her entire music library, trying to find the perfect song to share with Barnes. It was a sticky subject, trying to suss out what he'd like, but she wanted to do her best.

Their morning pleasantries had continued with Darcy sharing her ear buds and providing music for their elevator ride to the top of the tower. They'd discovered that he wasn't a fan of screaming heavy metal, not that Darcy thought he would be, but Norwegian death metal had been a big fail on her part. Since their first day, she'd been cycling through genres to see where his tastes landed.

She hadn't dipped into the musicals section of her catalog, but Darcy would be fixing that particular problem in a few minutes. As she moved up the line, she pulled up the _Hamilton_ soundtrack, wondering how he'd react to the genius that was Lin-Manuel Miranda. When it was her turn, she draped her earbuds around her neck and stuffed her phone in her pocket, attention swinging up toward the barista asking for her order. Her gaze paused on a sign near the register, something new since she'd been here last. Her mini-boycott of the cafe had been self-imposed, but if her eyes were seeing things correctly, she'd be able to return to her normally scheduled caffeine intake.

The sign was written in big loopy letters, a highlighter having been used liberally to make it stand out. It read:

**Due to customer response, this location will no charge extra for soy milk. Thank you for understanding.**

Blinking behind her glasses, Darcy's eyes traced the words again, the surprise quickly turning toward happiness. She was sure she hadn't been the only one to complain about the new up-charge, but she couldn't help but think that maybe the vehement words she'd spoken to Barnes last week had been passed onto the people who controlled that sort of thing. Ordering her regulars, she couldn't seem to wipe the grin from her face. When her name was called, she gathered her drinks, and started toward the elevator, a little pep in her step.

Unable to sleep, even after deciding she'd gift Barnes with the brilliance of _Hamilton_ , Darcy had found herself going down a wikipedia rabbit hole. She sought out information about the man who'd become a steady presence in her life, deliberately steering herself away from what had been published about him in the last year. Darcy already knew what horrible things had been done to him, at least what had been published in the media, but she didn't _want_ that kind of information. She wanted to know about him as a child, what it'd been like growing up on the streets of Brooklyn, why he'd enlisted in the first place. She'd always been more interested in the unimportant things, the things that hadn't changed history as they knew it.

It was what she'd needled Steve for during their all-night conversation, weeks and weeks ago. She wanted stuff that _couldn't_ be found in a history book. She wanted to know _him_ , not the person created by the papers and twenty-four-hour news cycle. The fact that she hadn't accidentally ran into Steve was surprising, but Darcy didn't want to examine it in too much detail, somehow convincing herself it was better that way. In any case, she'd come to the conclusion that Barnes would share when he wanted, when he wanted, and pushing things was useless.

Maybe after a few more meetings they'd move past simple pleasantries and the sharing of music. Barnes was like a puzzle, and Darcy had never been able to accept defeat when it came to making friends. She was like a sea urchin, glomming onto the belly of a boat and refusing to budge. If she needed to latch onto Barnes' belly? She was willing. Readjusting the drinks so she could wedge them in her elbow, Darcy's gaze flicked up toward the numbers display, counting off the floors in her head. When the car came to a slow stop, she pulled out one of her ear buds in preparation, a smile lifting her lips as she waited.

When the elevator doors opened, the look in Barnes' eyes was like a storm, enough that Darcy expected to feel electricity lift the hair on her arms and hear it crackling in her ears. He barely even acknowledged that she was standing there, arm stretched in his direction. For the first time in weeks, Darcy took a step back when he entered the car, _something_ keeping her from saying anything. He punched the button for his floor and stood at the front, hands wrapped in gauze, his toes almost touching the doors as the elevator climbed. Darcy pulled her arm back, letting the earbud fall free to hang around her neck.

It felt like they'd regressed, whatever friendly warmth they'd begun to share fading completely, until he reminded her of the same glowering soldier she'd met all those weeks ago. Darcy's gaze swept over his body, noting the tension that had returned to his shoulders and the stiff way he was holding himself. He'd started opening his body toward hers as they'd spoke and shared her earbuds, but that was all gone now, anxiety having bled into his person, cold enough that a shiver flew down her spine. He was as still as a statue, unnerving as all hell, and she held her breath, feeling uncertainty cloud her mind.

The silent ride in the car felt like it drug on forever, and when they finally reached his floor, Barnes exited swiftly and without so much as a backward glance in her direction. As the doors closed after him, Darcy was left standing there, chewing on her bottom lip, trying to figure out what had just happened. She walked toward the lab like a robot, her mind not on the journey but filled with a confused fog. She paused just outside the door, turning her face into her shoulder and coughing. Darcy'd hoped getting a music pick-me-up and, possibly, one of Barnes' small smiles would help her feel better, but now she just felt like gum on the bottom of a sneaker.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she pushed through the doors, voice already lifting for Jane's ears. "Janey, I know you're an astrophysicist and not a psychologist, but what would make someone just close themselves off completely? Especially when it seemed like you were finally making headway?" 

Darcy dropped her bag on the counter and set down their drinks before reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose. She picked up the conversation as she threw her tissue away and reached for a bottle of hand sanitizer. 

"I really thought things were going well, because he'd started smiling and I could have sworn that he was getting comfortable, but then this morn - _ohmygodVigswhatareyou **doing** here?!_" Forgetting her previous worries, Darcy practically leaped into Erik Selvig’s surprised arms, the grip around his ribs like a vice. 

Erik laughed softly, returning the embrace with a squeeze of his own. He rested his cheek on the crown of her head as he swayed from side to side, smiling when she pulled back enough to blink up at him. “I’m in town for a conference and thought I’d stop by.” Darcy’s eyebrow raise was one for the books, and he chuckled at the expression. “I had some additional data I wanted to give you both.”

“Seems like a pretty thin excuse,” Darcy said, though she didn’t move out of his arms. Reluctantly, she took a step back, letting him get his bearings. He’d never been a particularly touchy-feely type person, but in the years Darcy had known him, he’d grown more than familiar with her particular brand of ‘friendly hugs’.

“I also wanted to stop by and check in on my girls.”

Grin beaming brilliantly, she tugged Erik back toward the couch he and Jane had been sitting on and took a seat. Darcy had grown up without a father, and while she would be the first to say she’d had one of the greatest moms of all time and that Abigail Lewis had been _more_ than enough parent for her, she could also say that having Erik Selvig in her life as a pseudo-father figure filled her with happiness and contentment. He’d been colder at first, but Darcy’s sunshine optimism had thawed his heart, and the trio had fallen into a comfortable team and family. She’d missed him something fierce. “Uh, have you seen all the gadgets and gizmos we’ve got here? They’re a’plenty!”

“Yes, it’s all very… shiny.” 

Erik’s eyes swept around the room, his gaze lingering on the ceiling, and Darcy tried to imagine what it was like for him to return to the tower. She was steadfastly in his corner when it came to what had happened with Loki’s scepter, but she had no idea what was running through his mind. On instinct, she reached out and clutched his hand, his blue eyes blinking at her before softening.

“Jane was just telling me you gave her a brilliant idea the other day.”

Darcy snorted in disbelief, expression sobering when Erik and Jane’s attention bore down on her. “Wait, what? When?”

“Your ‘galaxy GPS’ idea,” Jane said, pointing over her shoulder at the large white board that was covered in scribbles. “You remember?”

“Uh, yes?” In all actuality, Darcy wasn’t sure what Jane was referring to. Most of the time Darcy’s comments were said in an effort to _distract_ the scientist from work so her brain didn’t turn to mush. The notion that something _she’d_ said would be helpful was surprising. 

“Well, whether you remember it or not, it’s pointed her in a new direction.” When Darcy winced, Erik reached out to pat her knee. “No, Darcy, it’s a good thing.”

“I was stuck and then you made that comment and _boom_ ,” Jane said, hands miming her mind being blown, “it all clicked. It’s still just a theory and I’ve got so much more to make it into something usable, but it was _your_ idea.”

Despite the pride she could see in Jane and Erik’s eyes, Darcy still felt like going in an entirely new direction wasn’t a great idea. “Should we tell Stark and Banner that we’re changing things?”

“It’s the nature of the beast,” Erik said, sitting back on the couch, “they’ll understand that. Most people are only one leap away from the Nobel Prize.”

Eyes widening dramatically, Darcy glanced in Jane’s direction to see find the astrophysicist lost in thought, her gaze pointed toward the board, and Darcy could almost imagine the formulas running through her best friend’s head, like an adding machine spitting out sum after sum. “Cool, I guess.”

“But what about you? You were talking about making friends with someone? Getting comfortable?”

“Oh, that? It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t _sound_ like nothing,” Erik said, grabbing a box of tissues and holding it out toward her.

Darcy took the tissue gratefully, blowing her nose before she began talking again. “It’s just… I thought I was getting somewhere but it was like we slid all the way back to where we’d begun. He’s hot then he’s cold and I’m not sure what’s wrong. The last time I saw him, he smiled at me. Then today? Nothing.”

“Sometimes a smile can be a weapon, and perhaps he was feeling unarmed today.” When both Jane and Darcy blinked at him, Erik shifted under the weight. “What?”

“That was deep as fuck, Vigs,” Darcy said, her tone filled with awe.

“Thank you?” When Darcy laughed, Erik’s lips lifted at the corners. “When you see this person tomorrow, just feel him out.”

“Did you just tell her to feel him up?”

“I do believe that’s what he suggested to me, Janey.”

“I said feel him _out_.”

Darcy clicked her tongue, shaking her head sadly from side to side. “See, I don’t think that’s what you said.”

“Nope, I definitely heard him telling you to feel Barnes up the next time you saw him.”

“Barnes? James Barnes?”

The disbelief and concern in Erik’s voice made a strike of affection crash in Darcy’s chest. “Yes, James Barnes. He’s a sergeant. Or, I think he still is? See, _this_ is the kind of thing I wanted to find out from him, but it looks like he’s decided to just stop talking to me.”

“You mean he’s giving you the cold shoulder?” When Darcy looked over at her, one dark eyebrow raising, Jane shrugged, an unrepentant grin on her face. “You know, because he’s got the metal arm.”

“Yes, Janey, I was able to determine the crux of your joke, thank you, you’re a regular chuckle factory.”

“I’ve missed you both,” Erik said, reaching out to squeeze both of their hands. “The world is a much less colorful place without you.”

“Awww, Viggy,” Darcy reached out and cupped his cheek, willing her eyes to stop welling with tears, “you should just come work here. We can get the band back together!”

“Perhaps once my current project concludes. Though I would understand why Mr. Stark wouldn’t want me to -”

Darcy shook her head with vehemence, “nope, no, _uh-huh_ , Jane and I have already talked with Stark about you being a consultant. You say the word and you’re in.” 

Erik looked over at Jane for confirmation, the air in his lungs escaping when she nodded at him. “Okay. I don’t know how much longer I have where I am, because you both know -”

_“We must go where the science leads us.”_

_“We must go where the science leads us.”_

Both girls broke out in laughter when they spoke in unison, one of Erik’s favorite sayings having been burned into their minds. Deciding it was time to tackle it, Darcy climbed to her feet and grabbed the drinks she’d nearly forgotten on the counter. “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

_The room was splashed with crimson. It dripped on every surface, feeling tacky on his skin, pulling at his arm hair as it dried. The Soldier's eyes darted from body to body, watching for the rise and fall of their chests, making sure he'd gotten everyone. He saw one of them twitch and, without a second thought, a blade had flown through the air, burying to the hilt in one of their necks. The Soldier walked closer, standing over the cooling body._

_As if he was waking up, Bucky blinked down at the body of a scientist, his white coat drenched in red. Like he was clearing a fog, his eyebrows knit in confusion. Who had done this? Who had killed all these people? His hands lifted to touch his chest, finding he was shirtless, fingers smearing the blood that had been splattered across his skin. He pulled his hands away from his body, unable to see the normal colors of his fingers, the dark-red staining, buried under his nails. Bucky stumbled backward, slipping on the blood covering the floor, falling on his back, his left shoulder taking the brunt of the impact._

_His screams sounded loudly in the room, scrambling back from someone wearing a dark uniform, a red Hydra patch on his shoulder. The man's eyes were open, but Bucky could tell he was already dead. They were **all** dead, everyone who'd been in the room with him. As the fear took over, mind-numbing and impossible, he couldn't ignore the fact that _he'd_ killed them. His hands had done this._

_No._

_Only **one** of his hands had done this. _

_The other wasn't his._

_It was **theirs**. _

_His breathing was labored as he sat up, right hand crossing his body, bloody fingernails clawing at the appendage they'd affixed to him. He growled, gritting his teeth as he tried to dig under the metal plate, trying to wrench the prosthetic away from his body, to shed it from his skin. The pain was background noise, drowned out by scream after scream that issued from his throat, as if he'd never stop screaming, as if his voice would be torn from his body just like his arm had been._

_When people began to pile into the room, headed straight for him, Bucky lashed out at them, like an animal that had been caged. They had tasers, and as the prongs met his skin, Bucky felt like he was on fire. They managed to pull him to his feet, but not before his fist connected with one of their jaws, knowing the bones had broken under his knuckles, hearing the grunt of pain as the man fell to the ground and under the boots of his fellow soldiers. He was held captive, arms held behind his back, more holding his shoulders to keep him still. Bucky struggled against the hold, but he was stuck, unable to fight so many of them. When the door swung open again, he looked up into the strikingly clear blue eyes of the man who’d sent him to kill._

_Alexander Pierce made his way into the room, cool gaze flicking from body to body, clicking his tongue as his attention turned toward Bucky. "What a waste," he said, carefully avoiding the puddle of blood staining the floor. Bucky struggled against the hold on him, but was unsuccessful. As Pierce neared, he pulled back, trying to keep himself out of reach._

_Alexander's fingers grabbed the slacks he wore and pulled them up before crouching in front of Bucky. He shook his head forlornly, curling the debrief report he held in his hands before he lashed out, using the rolled report to hit Bucky on the nose, not flinching when Bucky lunged forward with an angry scream. "I think you need to be taught a lesson. This is unacceptable behavior, just utterly unacceptable." He looked at Bucky for a long moment, like he was considering what punishment would fit the crime of killing a cadre of scientists. "Put him in."_

_One of the scientists, who'd escaped the massacre by running away, took a step forward. "Sir, we need to wipe him first."_

_"No," Pierce said, "I want him to remember this. Then, when we need him again, we'll wipe him, but right now? Right now I want him to know what's happening. I want him to know that his decisions have consequences."_

_"And if it causes permanent trauma?"_

_Alexander's cold gaze lingered on Bucky before he turned toward the man in his white coat. "Then we defrost one of the others. That's why we have them, after all. One tool breaks, you get a new one. Freeze him."_

_"_ **No!** _" Bucky roared, nearly knocking the men holding him away. He was able to climb to his feet, even with all the hands on him, and attempted to close the distance between him and Pierce. The politician's expression never held a hint of fear as he watched the men wrestle Bucky back, fighting for every inch they moved him. They managed to throw him into the cryotube, where he was stored until being needed again, the door latching with a terrifying click._

_Bucky's fists pounded on the circle of glass that allowed him to see out, feeling his skin crack and split and fill with blood as he cried, guttural screams that were deafening against the metal. He watched Alexander Pierce use this rolled-up report - the one he'd struck Bucky with, on the nose, like a **dog** \- to point to the bodies on the ground, reading the other man's lips. _

__Take care of this _._

_The first crack of cold started at his toes and moved upward. In the space of a few seconds, just enough for the scream to build in the back of his throat, Bucky felt the numbness of freeze take over, the air in his lungs solidifying, mouth still opened in silent agony. Bucky knew that when they needed him next, this would all be forgotten; the people he killed would just blend in with every other person whose life he'd ended. and the control exerted over him would be too hard to fight against. The chill was at his eyes now, the last thing he saw before the cryo technology take over was Alexander Pierce, walking away without even looking back._

Bucky moved in a fog, going through the motions, no real life in his eyes. Due to it's repetition and regularity, his schedule kept him grounded, but he was barely conscious of his body, mind filled with nothing but the cold, the feel of metal enclosing him. He beat his fists against the bag, his throat aching, screaming his aggression and futility, the useless terror that held him captive and refused to let go. He looked down at his knuckles, finding them broke and bleeding. He wrapped the gauze around them absently, a voice in the back of his head whispering that it would be bad to show his weaknesses, that it'd be used against him.

When he arrived at his and Steve's rooms, he immediately crossed to the bathroom attached to the bedroom they didn't use. He stripped quickly, the clothes hitting the floor with wet slaps, before turning the water as hot as it would go, his teeth clacking as he stood there, waiting for it to heat. He didn't know how long he'd stood there under the spray, shaking, his thoughts in freefall.

As it always had, Steve's voice broke through the tangle of his mind, and Bucky clawed to the surface, glancing over at the doorway. Steve stood there on the other side of the glass shower wall, eyes steady and full of concern. Bucky ran a hand over his face, spitting away the water, finally feeling himself fill the cold empty space where it'd been seconds before. "What?"

Steve frowned, seeing something behind his best friend's gaze, "I asked if you're okay."

Bucky flicked the tap off, the silence in the room jarring. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself, hoping he was able to fool the man he loved, hoping the horrors of his nightmares weren't staining his eyes. "I'm fine. Had a good workout."

Not looking convinced, but not wanting to push, Steve nodded. "Okay. Have you eaten yet?"

"Not really hungry. I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Okay."

Once the blond was out of eyesight, Bucky pressed a hand to the tile of the shower, eyes closing as he fought off the heavy beat of his heart, not wanting to fall into the dark that was there right on the edge of his thoughts. It took several moments before he was steady enough to move. Before he left the steam of the bathroom, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, satisfied that he'd staved off the horror that wanted to steal his mind. He put on the charming expression that had become a mask, screwing it into place before he faced Steve again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> 


	14. Thirsty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have a discussion and something a bit more intimate. Steve, Tony, and Thor travel to Wakanda to appeal to King T'Challa for some help. Darcy and Bruce share an elevator and make tentative plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> I can't believe it's June already!  
>   
> I didn't _plan_ it, but to kick off Pride month, this chapter features a little hot NSFW!Stucky action. Woot Woot!  
> Thank you all for your amazingness!  
> <3 <3 <3  
> Let's do this!  
>   
> 

_Thirsty for comfort_  
_Too proud to ask for answers_  
_Libraries of suggestion_  
_The loudest voice is hidden_  
_Obvious, so simple_  
_Action makes for removal_  
_Heavy heart, bad posture_  
_Collapse and falling under, now…_  


**My Enemy - Jimmy Eat World**

"I have a mission tomorrow. I'll be out of the country for a couple days."

Bucky's gaze slid to his right, watching Steve's fingers pass over the tablet in front of him, a look of consternation on his best friend's face. "Where?"

"Diplomatic envoy to Wakanda. Thor's going to plead his case, see if T'Challa and his people can help the Asgardians find a new home." Steve still wasn't convinced that Wakanda would have the ability to actually help Thor, but he was hoping for the best. He knew how much it troubled Thor that his people were like a leaf on the wind, that he wanted something more grounded for them, but when it came to talks of underwater civilizations, Steve was out of his depth, no pun intended.

When Steve didn't say more, Bucky sat up straighter, tossing his book on his nightstand. "Did you need me to come with?"

Hearing the anxiety creep into Bucky's voice, Steve looked over, giving the other man a soft shake of his head. "No, no, I figured you'd be fine to sit this one out. It's just going to be a lot of talking back and forth. Why, did you want to -"

" _No_ ," Bucky said with feeling, snorting softly, "not in the slightest." He'd fallen in love with Wakanda when they'd been there, endlessly fascinated by the technology and protections they'd perfected, but it hadn't been _home_. Even with all the issues they had to wade through in the States, it was still home.

Steve watched Bucky run his hands over their blanket, smoothing out some of the wrinkles. He'd noticed the anxious hand movements, his fingers constantly looking for a surface to touch. Like an anchor. He'd written it off as a new sensation, something that his new prosthetic afforded him, but over time, it'd become clear it was more than that. Steve set the tablet on his lap, angling his body toward his best friend. "I know you're been having a hard time." When Bucky frowned and looked over at him, Steve's expression made it clear that he wasn't going to let Bucky bullshit him. Not this time. "I'm not blind, Buck. You can talk to me about it, you know that, right?"

Bucky avoided Steve's gaze, fingers passing over the soft fabric of their bedding. "Yeah," he conceded, "but I don't want to."

"Why?"

Hearing hurt in Steve's voice, Bucky’s storm eyes flicked up. "I don't want you to look at me any different."

Tongue clicking softly, Steve reached out to steady Bucky's hand. "Bucky, I love you. I know what you did -"

"No, you don't," Bucky said with a small shake of his head, watching as Steve refocused on him, "you know what I told. The basics. Just enough to identify that it was _my_ hand. But the details..." Crimson flashed in Bucky's vision, a horrific tableau that came at night, reminding him how stained his hands were. "... they're worse, Steve. So much worse. The things that haunt my nightmares? No. No, I don't want to tell you those things."

Steve wanted to argue with him, to tell Bucky that _nothing_ he did would change how Steve felt, but he stopped himself. As much as he wanted to be there for his love, he also knew he wasn't equipped to deal with the mental health that was at the heart of the issue. He knew post-traumatic stress disorder was more widely known, that it was an accepted part of military duty, but he wasn't a professional. This was one situation where he _couldn't_ help. "You have to talk to _someone_ ," Steve argued, watching Bucky glance at him. "You were going to look into one of the therapists on staff."

"I did."

"And?"

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. "None of them will work."

"Why?"

Gaze holding Steve's, trying to _make_ the other man understand, Bucky's tongue darted out to lick his lips. "If you saw them, you'd know why. None of them are strong enough to handle what I'd need to tell."

"Okay," Steve hummed, mind working to solve the problem, "then we look for someone off site. Maybe Sam will know someone who specializes in PTSD and trauma." It was clear Bucky didn't like Sam being brought up and wasn't exactly a fan of the idea, but Steve was going to stand firm. "I hate leaving you when I know you're struggling."

Bucky snorted again, reaching out to grab Steve's hands, twining their fingers together. "We've been struggling with one thing or another our whole lives, punk. We've both come back from the dead. We live in a world of ghosts." When Steve did nothing but frown, Bucky pulled on his hand softly, waiting for Steve's gaze to slide over to his. "Look, you'll go on your trip, and when you get back, we'll make a plan. Try to find someone for me to talk to."

He thought about pushing Bucky, but the tiredness in Bucky’s eyes froze the words on his tongue. That they’d even _talked_ about what he was going through was progress, and he was reluctant to lose the ground they’d gained. Steve rubbed his thumb against the softness of Bucky’s hand, the warm skin he’d memorized. When he glanced back up at his love, there was a heat to the other man’s eyes that widened Steve’s pupils, his body reacting to the glint that was pointed his way.

It had been some time since Bucky had felt anything but anxiety coursing through his veins, and he knew it had affected his relationship with Steve. It wasn’t like their bond was just physical desire, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt the flames fan into his cheeks, or seen Steve looking at him the way he was. He pushed at the covers that had been over his legs, climbing to his knees as he moved closer to Steve. His tongue darted out once before dipping his head, pressing his lips against Steve’s.

A flare of want erupted in Steve’s chest, the feel of Bucky’s body like a breath of fresh air, and Steve let himself react to the kiss, hand reaching up to cup Bucky’s cheek. He held himself back, however, not wanting to push Bucky too hard, just in case he wasn’t ready. He would _never_ make Bucky do something that might undo the progress his best friend had made, but he couldn’t deny that the hunger for Bucky still filled him, leaving him ravenous. Holding himself back wasn’t easy, but even now, he kept a steady hand on the reins of his own desire.

When Steve held himself back - so thoughtfully, so carefully, so _lovingly_ \- something in Bucky hated the restraint the other man held. He wasn’t sure how long this feeling would last, and he wanted to let it burn the both of them, wanted to stoke it hotter. He moved until Steve’s back was pressed to the bed, Bucky’s body covering him, holding himself above the blond with his hands. He deepened their kiss, tongue curling into Steve’s mouth, feeling the rumble of a growl caught in his throat as his fingers sifted through Steve’s honey-hued strands.

Bucky’s knee between his legs gave Steve something to tighten against, and he squeezed his thighs, hooking his leg higher and pulling Bucky closer. The strength in his lover’s hands was enough to send a shiver up his spine, and when Bucky pulled his mouth away and began peppering his jaw with kisses, the hand in his hair meant Steve could do little but writhe against the bed, chest beating with quiet anticipation.

Taking his time, Bucky made his way down Steve’s body, lifting the hem of his t-shirt so he could press his lips over Steve’s nipple, his teeth biting until Steve hissed in pleasure bordering on pain. Tongue lapping, Bucky soothed the bit of flesh then continued his southern journey, chin bumping against Steve’s already hard cock, unable to keep a small smirk from blooming on his face.

While he usually loved watching Bucky work, Steve’s head fell back against the blankets, eyes fluttering closed. There was still a hint of worry, that maybe Bucky wasn’t ready to be physical yet, but the baser part of Steve’s brain won out, keeping him quiet even as Bucky’s fingers curled over the hem of Steve’s sweatpants and began to pull them off. Steve lifted his ass and helped while simultaneously ridding himself of the white tee he’d been wearing.

Bucky froze, looking down at Steve’s bare skin like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, because it _was_. Pre-serum or post-serum didn’t matter; Bucky had been in love with the man below him since he was old enough to know what the feeling was, and even time nor fate itself had been able to come between them. That _meant_ something. If Steve was still able to look at him, let alone _touch_ him, then maybe he wasn’t too far gone. It was like hope, and assurance, and a million other things that Bucky needed. 

Steve watched Bucky move slowly, rising onto his elbows. His eyes poured over the other man as Bucky slipped out of the sleep pants he wore, letting them pool on the ground next to the rest of their discarded clothing. Bucky returned to the bed and his last position, leaving Steve on his back, blue eyes blinking up at the stark white ceiling. His eyes only stayed open until the wet warmth of Bucky’s mouth wrapped around the head of his cock and forced an expletive to fall free. “ _Fuck_.”

Smiling, stretching his lips to accommodate Steve’s girth, Bucky repeated the motion, feeling Steve shift beneath him, wiggling against the sensation. It had been a long time since he’d felt up to being intimate, _far, far too long_ , and Bucky lost himself in the sounds that he forced from Steve, in the way his best friend gasped his name and tangled his hands in his hair. It didn’t take much before Steve was bucking upward, chasing after Bucky’s mouth, wanting to take control of the movement. Bucky pulled back, hearing the groan of loss as Steve fell from between his lips. When Steve’s eyes opened and his head lifted to look at him, Bucky’s hand was already wrapped around his own cock, spreading the bead of precome and stroking softly. “Want to feel you in me,” he managed, watching heat rocket into the blue eyes he knew so well.

While part of Steve wanted to do just that, to pound himself into Bucky until they were both seeing stars, another _more rational_ part of his mind reminded him that they needed to tread lightly. “Buck, are you sure -”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky said, stopping whatever words of argument were poised to come out of Steve’s mouth, teeth biting softly into Steve’s lower lip and tugging. 

They moved at once, Bucky to his knees and Steve so he was looking at the long, muscular lines of Bucky’s back. Steve brushed the hair from Bucky’s shoulders, seeing his lover in profile when Bucky turned his head. Tracing his hand down Bucky’s skin, Steve’s fingertips felt every dip and curve of Bucky’s spine, feeling the carefully bunched flesh break into goosebumps under his touch. He lifted his hand, tongue licking against his palm before his hand snaked between their bodies, rubbing over the spot that made Bucky writhe back against him.

The wetness Steve spread was slick, and warm, and it caused Bucky’s eyes to flutter closed, anticipation forcing the air from his lungs in a huff, turning in an attempt to see what was taking Steve so long. He was just about to say something when he felt the first press of Steve’s cock, the pressure building until a hiss of ‘ _Steve!_ ’ fell from his lips. His left hand held him upright on his knees, while his right reached down to squeeze his own cock, rubbing up and down, body tingling with impatience. 

Bucky was tight around him, but Steve pushed forward, ready to stop if Bucky made any indication that something was wrong. It would hurt, getting this close only to have to stop, but he _would_ , if it was needed. It appeared it wasn’t, though, as Bucky moaned with each new inch. When he was full sheathed, his and Bucky’s bodies connecting as much as they could, Steve let out a breath, the sound shaky and meaningful. He stayed there for a few seconds getting his bearings, trying to wrap his head around how quickly things had gotten heated.

Needing to feel this, Bucky pushed his body against Steve’s, urging the blond, wanting his best friend to stop questioning and give him what he knew they _both_ wanted. When Steve pulled back only to snap his hips forward, it forced a moan from the bottom of Bucky’s lungs, something guttural and rasping. “ _Yes, Steve, fuck!_ ”

Setting a steady pace, Steve took his time, leaning forward to press his lips to Bucky’s shoulder blade and the side of his neck, arm wrapping around Bucky’s waist and holding him still. It was too hard to connect their lips together in their current position, but Steve made sure Bucky felt his lips wherever they touched. His fingers dug into Bucky’s hips as he straightened, re-focusing his efforts on giving Bucky what he’d asked for.

Every buck of Steve’s hips drew Bucky higher, his hand attempting to move in tandem, to draw out the moment even as he wanted to rush ahead. He’d missed this so much, missed _Steve_ so much, and just when things were about to get too heavy, too _real_ , Bucky grit his teeth and growled. “ _More._ ”

Steve had never been able to Bucky anything but _everything_ he wanted, and he picked up the tempo, jaw clenching as his body reacted to the beautiful tableau of Bucky’s skin spread below him. His fingers curled over Bucky’s shoulder, using it as an anchor to increase speed, pulling Bucky back just as much as his hips were propelling him forward.

Words had become an impossibility. Bucky couldn’t have made sense if he tried, and as Steve’s pace became bruising, a steady stream of nonsense fell from Bucky’s lips. He could feel the pressure building in himself, his hand speeding its work, and when Steve crashed his body forward, the dam holding Bucky back broke. He gasped, the motion of his hand slowing as he came.

Steve knew the second Bucky fell, feeling the tension in his best friend’s body heighten then relax, and the release pushed him over the edge. Fingers tightening on Bucky’s hips, the probability that Bucky’s beautiful skin would be dotted with purple bruises high, Steve let out a shout as his own body froze, hips jerking forward on reflex as he came. Breathing heavy and pulse quickened, Steve caught himself before his body weight collapsed on top of Bucky, managing to stay upright as sparks still exploded behind his eyelids.

Feeling like he was floating, Bucky’s lungs filled and emptied quickly, knees weak but keeping himself upright. It was only when Steve made a reluctant sound and pulled free that Bucky fell to his side and then his back, purring happily when Steve fitted himself beside him on the bed. There was a sheen of sweat on Steve’s brow, and Bucky blinked lazily as he watched a bead slip down the side of the blond’s neck and fall to the quilt beneath them.

When Bucky stretched an arm across his stomach, Steve turned his head to find Bucky looking at him. Something in the other man’s gaze made his lips turn down and he rolled to his side so he could look at his best friend. “What is it? Is something -”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said before he was sure it was true. He waited to feel the same heaviness that weighed on him to return, but something was keeping it at bay, quiet and benign for the time being. Taking advantage of the brief respite, he lifted his hand and pressed it against Steve’s cheek. “Anyone tell you you’re pretty good at that?”

Lips slanting, Steve leaned forward, kissing Bucky slowly and softly. Necessity would pull them from the bed in a few moments, but for the time being, Steve wanted to soak up as much of this as possible. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I love you.”

“Never loved anyone more.”

“Sap.”

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Though it had become old hat to him, Steve watched Tony and Thor's faces as they passed the shield that protected Wakanda from outside detection. Thor's expression was impressed, hope climbing into his azure gaze. Tony's looked as if the engineer wanted to disassemble the entire thing just so he could see how it worked. Cobalt eyes focusing on the world outside the windshield of the quinjet, Steve attempted to quiet the ball of worry in the pit of his stomach. He _hated_ that he'd had to leave Bucky behind, but if this could help the Asgardian's find a place to call home, he'd push his own concerns to the back of his mind. "Welcome to Wakanda."

"You weren't kidding about it being hidden," Tony said, whiskey-gaze jumping from building to building as they were directed toward the palace. "It's better than the reflective panels on the hellicarriers."

Thor took a step back, and uncharacteristic frown on the man’s face. "I was not aware Midgard possessed this kind of technology."

"Midgard? Not so much. But Wakanda? Yeah.” Tony spoke at Thor, but his eyes remained on the structures outside, surprised at the amount of vegetation that remained a focal point of the city. He and Pepper had toyed with the idea of adding gardens to their buildings, using them as a natural filtration system, something sustainable in any climate. What he was seeing gave him so many ideas that he couldn’t wait to speak with Wakanda’s most brilliant mind and assail herw with questions. “They've revolutionized an entirely new science. I mean, vibranium? It's brilliant."

Steve gave Tony a considering expression. "You're not intimidated that someone else has created this and you had no hand in it?"

The look Tony threw Steve’s way was not altogether friendly. " _Some_ of us are able to set aside our ego and realize that a better, brighter, _safer_ future might be in the hands of those younger than us, old man. We’ve got to give them a chance, let them lead the way. I had no hand in the Measles, Mumps, and Rubella vaccine, but I can still appreciate how life changing it's been."

Thor frowned again. "I understand nothing of what you just said."

Steve ignored the speech Tony launched into, the billionaire's passionate explanation of medical vaccines and herd immunity like background noise, giving his focus toward the world beyond the walls of the jet. Wakanda's mix of metal and glass that was, somehow, seamlessly entwined with the jungle and lands ringing the capital, had always left Steve in awe. It was modern, but cultural, drawing from the past to inform the future. 

As they neared the palace, he could see a group of warriors, dressed in red and holding staffs, waiting for them on the landing pad. When they landed, he was the first one down the gangplank. Making his way out of the jet and into the humid air, a smile curled Steve's lips as he saw T'Challa and Shuri waiting for them. When he neared, his grin was matched by both of theirs.

"Captain Rogers, it is good to see you," T'Challa said, reaching out to shake Steve's hand.

"You too," Steve said, completely honest. He could never repay the Wakandan king for what he'd done to keep him and Bucky safe, and Steve had come to look at T'Challa as a friend, and one he’d missed. Taking a step to the left, Steve's arm swept toward the two people standing behind him in the sunshine. "Princess Shuri, King T'Challa, this is Thor Odinson, King of Asgard."

Thor took a step closer, squeezing T'Challa's hand. His blue eyes were bright, but heavy, and he hoped the small smile on his face didn’t appear insincere. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, King T'Challa." 

"Of course," T'Challa said with a slight bow of his head. "Steven has told me that you've been a strength at his side in many battles."

A large grin brightened Thor's face as he glanced over at Steve, lifting an arm to clap the soldier on the shoulder. "We have had great fun, haven't we?"

When a snort sounded from the third of their party, Steve let out a soft chuckle, opening the circle to include Tony. "King T’Challa, Princess Shuri, this is Tony Stark."

T'Challa's eyes took on a knowing glint as he shook Tony’s hand, unable to keep one corner of his mouth from curling up in a smirk. "Ah, yes. Mr. Stark. My sister has been following your work for many, many years."

Steve’s eyes flicked toward the young woman, watching her face lose some of its usual jovial tint at T’Challa’s words. "I do not need you to speak _for_ me, brother." Shuri took a step closer to the group gathered, a tablet clutched to her chest as she smiled at the engineer. "It is very good to finally meet you, Mr. Stark."

"Likewise, Princess. I've got an entire _list_ of questions for you."

"You must think alike," T'Challa said, crossing his arms over his chest, "as Shuri told me the exact same thing this morning at breakfast."

" _Brother!_ "

The smile that popped onto Tony's expression was nearly blinding, and when it swung back toward the teenager, she avoided his gaze. When Tony’s focus looked back at him, Steve didn't hide his eye roll. 

"Come," T'Challa said, taking control of the situation with grace, "let us talk about what brings you today."

For the first time since landing, Thor's expression darkened. "It is not an easy conversation."

T'Challa nodded his head, his tone soft. "Those of kings rarely are."

After they'd been lead to a conference room - Tony and Shuri spending the walk discussing the tech that they'd passed on the way in - the five had settled in, the gravity of the situation sobering their comments. Thor seemed to quiet the most, his normal friendly nature flattening as he sat across from the man who could be the hope the Asgardians needed. When T'Challa dipped his head, Thor sat up straighter. "The realm my people called home was destroyed."

"War?"

Thor shook his head at the King’s question. "No. Asgard has not lost a war in the fifteen-hundred years I've lived. The destruction came in the hands of my sister, Hela. She triggered a prophecy which lead to an apocalypse, and the only solution to save my people was to destroy our home. We have been living on a ship while we attempt to find somewhere permanent for us to start over."

A considering expression filled T’Challa’s gaze. "And how many Asgardians travel with you?"

"We number under two thousand."

"King Thor, how do you believe Wakanda could be of assistance to you and your people?"

"I was informed that you've kept yourself hidden from the outside world for centuries," Thor said, leaning onto the table with his elbows, a careful thread of desperation in his voice. "I can see that you've developed the ability to cloak your presence. The field that covers your country is most impressive, and I believe something similar might help my people rebuild here, on Midgard."

Shuri, who'd taken a seat next to Tony, leaned into the billionaire. " _Midgard_?"

" _Means Earth_ ," Tony whispered back, his lips twitching upward.

" _I see._ "

"There is more than enough space under the waves of your oceans to give the Asgardians a place they could call home," Thor continued. "We would need help selecting the best location -"

"- _and_ creating something that will withstand the extreme cold and pressure that’d come along with making Poseidon their new god," Tony said, ignoring the glare Thor sent his way.

"And then they'd need to hide themselves like you have here," Steve added.

"Not to _mention_ ," Tony went on, "they'd need help figuring out how to grow food on land that's been twenty-leagues deep _and_ has a high salt content."

Shuri sat forward, hands in her lap as her mind worked. "It would not be too difficult to remove feet of seafloor and replace it with fertile soil that could produce fruit and vegetables. Vibranium could withstand the pressure and cold, but..."

Tony nodded, gesturing with his hand in the air. "... but the lifeblood of your country's advances are risky to share with others. It makes sense. However, isn't your new thing 'holding out a warm hand to others'? Can't really think of a better way to help the masses by _literally_ making a home for a group of refugees."

T'Challa scratched at the dark hair covering his chin, quiet for a moment. Finally, his eyes flicked over to Steve's. "We would need assurances that our science and technology will not fall into the hands of someone that could use them for harm."

"I know what weapons are out there because of vibranium being stolen,” Steve said, seriousness in his tone. “Trust me, I don't want to see them in anyone's hands either."

"I don't think the Asgardians need to know the ins and outs of what you can do, but if there were any issues, they'd need assistance fixing it." Tony watched Shuri’s mind work, able to track the idea and its possibilities as they flowed behind her dark gaze.

"In that case, we would be, essentially, their landlords?"

"Sure, if you wanted to look at it that way," Tony said with an impressed nod of his head. “You'd build it, hand over the keys, but you'd be the home insurance holder. If something needs fixed, you'd be on the hook."

Thor shifted in his seat, leveling an exasperated look at the engineer. "Stark, I would appreciate you limiting the number of comments that have to do with fish or other ocean wildlife."

"I promise nothing. If you rise to the bait, so be it." Tony's grin only grew wider when the teenager beside laughed then tried to cover it when her hand and a cough.

Pointing the conversation back to the topic, T'Challa earned everyone's gazes. "I understand what it means to feel the weight of your people's life on your shoulders, King Odinson. If my sister believes that we can help you, and that we can do so without risking our own security, I do not see why we could not assist you. I would need to speak with my council and make sure I have not overlooked any possible future problems."

"Of course," Thor nodded, "and I would understand if they have reservations. My people deserve a place to rest their heads. As their king it is my sworn duty to protect them, just as it is yours as well.”

T'Challa smiled, rising to his feet, holding his hand out again. "I will speak with my people. But for now, the sun dips and evening is upon us. Please, join us for dinner. You can tell me of your realm and its glory."

Shuri cleared her throat, T'Challa's attention swinging toward her. "Brother, if you don't mind, I was hoping that I could take Mr. Stark to my lab. There are things -"

The king's grin slanted crookedly. "You want to pester him with questions and have innumerable things to show him. Did you know, Mr. Stark, that she used to run around pretending to _be_ you?"

The strangled sound that forced its way up Shuri's throat matched the embarrassment that heated her cheeks. " _Brother!_ "

A look of consideration climbed onto Tony's face and he turned toward the teenager. "Hey, if you wanted a suit, I could -"

This time it was T'Challa whose eyes widened his hands lifting in surprise. "No. No, no, my sister has more than enough here to keep her busy, but if she wishes to show you her lab, be my guest. We will see you at dinner."

"Perfect."

When the two engineers disappeared through the large double doors, Steve's gaze flicked over toward T'Challa. "Should we be worried?"

"Oh," T'Challa said, a brotherly grin lighting his face, "most definitely."

Thor came to stand next to them. "What fear is this? They are two brilliant minds. What trouble could they possibly get into?"

Steve and T'Challa shared a look and a forlorn shake of their heads.

Thumb scrolling over her phone, Darcy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, lower lip being worried by her teeth. It wasn't very often that Jane specifically _requested_ coffee, and Darcy worried that the astrophysicist’s work was causing her undue stress. She knew how seriously Jane took her work, but _Jane_ was _Darcy's_ work; she'd made it her mission to be her best friend's right hand, that she was there and _ready_ for anything that Jane needed. Mostly this comprised of throwing her into bed, only to pull her back a few hours later. It was their normal routine, which was why she worried that Jane wanted an espresso to carry her through the day.

When the doors to the private elevator opened, Darcy didn't look up from her phone, assuming it was at their level. Her gaze flicked up from a worn pair of leather shoes, eyes widening in surprise at the person standing in front of her. "Dr. Banner?"

Blinking at the woman, Bruce gave her a soft lifting of his lips. "Hey," he mumbled, dark eyes sweeping the elevator car before he reached toward the button again and took a step back. "I'll wait for the next one."

"What?" Darcy asked, unable to keep the laughter from her voice, trying to decide whether to be offended that he didn’t want to share an elevator with her. "Why?"

Bruce reached up to scratch at his arm, avoiding her gaze. "Riding in a small elevator isn't... well, it's a little uncomfortable."

"They say you should try doing one uncomfortable thing every day." The look in Bruce’s eyes dark eyes when they looked up at her was one of surprise. He looked like he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do. Giving him the time he needed meant the doors to the elevator began to close, but her arm shot out, holding them open. 

Uncertain, Bruce frowned. "Who's _they_?"

With a grin, Darcy lifted and dropped her shoulder. "I don't know. The _they_ they're always talking about. Come on," she said, taking a step to the side to give him room, "I'm not going to bite."

"It's not, uh, _you_ I'm really worried about."

Snorting, Darcy crooked her finger at him, a friendly grin curling her lips. "I'll be fine. Nothing's entered this elevator that I couldn't handle. Promise."

"... _okay_." Bruce cast a look over his shoulder down the hallway behind him once before turning back to Darcy, a decision apparently made. He crossed into the elevator, reaching out to press the button for his floor.

Darcy stuffed her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, feeling quiet fall over them as the floor numbers began to climb. She swayed from side to side, a nervous gesture, before casting a quick glance in his direction. Bruce stood there, hands limp at his sides, attention on the red numbers of the wall. She was almost certain he wasn't looking for any kind of conversation, but Darcy had other plans. The only time she'd seen the scientist was during the meeting at the library, the night she and Jane's lives had been upended all over again, but her best friend had told her more than enough about the man during some of their late night gab sessions.

Despite the utterly understandable voice in the back of her mind telling her it might blow up in her face (like it had with Barnes the last time she’d seen him), she found herself turning toward Bruce. "Do you mind me asking? How it works?" When he glanced over at him with an eyebrow raised, she lifted her hand and formed it into a claw. "You know, the _grrrr_ thing?"

Pretty sure he'd never heard his transformation described that way, Bruce let the air in his lungs huff out. "It's... complicated."

"Okay," Darcy said with a nod of her head, keeping her voice as friendly as possible, "from what I've heard, _sparingly_ , you get angry, turn green, and smash stuff."

Giving Darcy a long look, Bruce wasn't able to see anything that indicated she was making fun of him. "... maybe it's not that complicated."

Outside of Tony, Bruce had never heard someone talk about his change so nonchalantly. After all the destruction he'd dealt, most people were too afraid to stay near him for long. He was usually fine with that, as he didn't like the idea of the green guy getting out anymore than anyone else. He tried to keep his social interactions to a minimum, which was helped by the fact that his lab and rooms had everything he needed. 

When his lips turned down, Darcy feared she'd said something wrong. "I just mean that you're so quiet and reserved. It's hard to picture you being angry, let along becoming the green guy."

"Let's hope you never have to."

Nodding, Darcy let the quiet hang in the air a bit more before she found herself asking another question. "So is it, like, a _ying yang_ kinda thing, or a _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ type deal?"

Bruce pulled his glasses from his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Some days the former, some days the latter."

Seeing the bags under his eyes, Darcy felt her inner scientist wrangler jump to the front, wanting to take away some of that pressure. "That sounds hard," she hummed, crossing her arms over her chest. When he just nodded at her, she continued. "I mean, don't get me wrong, once a month I have a rage monster that erupts from inside of me, too, but I think you're dealing with a little more than craving ice cream, bursting into tears for no reason, and wanting to carve out your uterus with a rusty metal spork."

Both of Bruce's eyebrows lifted as he digested the facts that were just shared with him. "Uhm, sure."

Feeling like she'd taken the sting out of anything that'd been discussed, Darcy gave him a grin. "You should come visit me and Jane soon. She can show you what she's working on, give you some updates."

"Okay," Bruce said, his own lips twitching up when her smile brightened, "that'd be nice."

"I know we all work up here, but sometimes it feels like we're the only ones. It'd be nice to get some visitors every once in a while." When he looked over at her, she shrugged her shoulders. " _Safe_ visitors, obviously. Still have to be safe, keep things on the DL, but it'd be nice." Darcy's fingers tapped at her chin, thoughts rolling. "Maybe I'll put a flyer in the elevator. A movie night or something. Avengers-level clearance and above."

The ‘ding’ as they arrived at Bruce's floor seemed to kick him back to the present, and he pushed his glasses back up his nose, nodding at her before he stepped out of the car. The doors had almost closed before his hand reached out, stopping them. "What movie?"

Darcy blinked in surprise at his outburst and reappearance. "Huh?"

"What movie would we watch?"

"Oh, um..." Darcy considered the question. Whatever they watched would have to be universal, something _everyone_ would like. Her mind turned over the options before she shrugged, hazel eyes flicking up to his. "I dunno, I have yet to find someone who doesn't like _Indiana Jones_. I mean, as long as you don't look too closely at the colonialism and misogyny. Maybe we start there."

"Ah." Bruce nodded at her once more, the ghost of a grin brightening his eyes. "Have a good day."

"You too," Darcy said cheerily, hand raising to wave at him until the doors stole him from sight. Letting out a breath, Darcy couldn't help the chuckle that matched the disbelieving shake of her head. _You never know what's going to happen in this elevator_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Pride month.  
> A full month to scream our truth to the world.  
> A full month celebrating individualism and acceptance.  
> A full month to wrap our arms around ourselves and feel the brightness we defuse to dim.  
> A full month to push back at the hetero-normative society that tries to say we're wrong.  
> Lesbian.  
> Gay.  
> Bisexual.  
> Transgender.  
> Queer.  
> Questioning.  
> Intersex.  
> Asexual.  
> Non binary.  
> Pansexual.  
> Polysexual.  
> All of us.  
> Gorgeous.  
> Worthy.  
>  _Perfect._


	15. Steady Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Bucky spend some ~~unplanned~~ ~~forced~~ quality time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> At some point this week, this little bit of wording surpassed 10k hits.  
> I'm forever humbled by the love you readers give me.  
> It means the world to me, and if you get half as much joy out of this world as I do,  
> we're all drowning in hearts and rainbows!  
> 
> 
>   
> 

_Steady me_  
_Be my source of gravity_  
_While my world's unraveling_  
_Say you'll never change_  
_And I will follow where this takes me_  
_And my tomorrows long to be unknown_  
_When all is shaken, be my safety_  
_In a world uncertain, say you'll be my stone_  


**Stone - Alessia Cara**

When the elevator doors opened, Darcy wasn't sure which Bucky she'd encounter that day. It could be the silent, sullen soldier who refused to speak to her, making her feel like all their progress had been stripped away until there was nothing even _remotely_ close to friendship between the two of them. _Or,_ she could come face to face with the man whose soft smiles _almost_ made her week in the knees. She knew which one she hoped for, but the uncertainty kept her stomach in knots. The doors pulled open, and the fact that he looked up at her without a storm raging behind his eyes was enough to uncurl a tendril of hope in her chest. She waited until he'd climbed into the car and the doors had closed before speaking. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Bucky said, turning toward her with a frown. He'd been so close to the edge the last time he'd seen her that even _talking_ was more than he could handle. The Soldier would go months without speaking, only following orders. More often than not, Bucky'd found his voice stolen as wave after wave of guilt and terror crashed over him. It was obvious in her hazel eyes that Darcy'd taken it personally, and it made him troubled. She'd gone out of her way to be friendly, and she deserved something worthy in return. "I was just -"

"No, no, I get it," Darcy said, hands gesturing in the air, trying to physically wave off the awkwardness, "it's early, and lots of people don't like -"

"No, that's -"

"- I just thought that we were moving _toward_ something, and I -"

"Toward what?"

"I can come on a little strong and I don't -"

Darcy let out a yelp of surprise when the elevator ground to a stop, the sounds of metal on metal grating around the inside of her head. Her eyes widened when the lights above them flickered, then went out all together, emergency lights flipping on and bathing the pair of them in a muted crimson glow. She turned her surprise toward Bucky, seeing his gaze swinging around the interior. "Good thing I peed before getting on here," she mumbled to herself.

" _Ms. Lewis?_ "

Darcy nearly jumped out of her skin when a woman's voice seemed to fill the car, though she managed to keep hold of the cups in her hands. "What!?"

" _I apologize for this inconvenience. It appears we are experiencing abnormal power surges and their origins are uncertain. For your safety, we have ceased elevator traffic. Engineering is attempting to fix the issue, but there is no ETA on how long the repairs may be._ "

"Oh," Darcy said, eyebrows knitting together as she gazed up at the ceiling. "Okay. Uh, I guess, thanks for the info?" 

When things were quiet for a second, she glanced over at Bucky, a snarky retort locked and loaded. It faded from her tongue when she realized that the man had moved away from her, shoving himself into a corner of the car, hands gripping the rails on either side of him. His shoulders were lifting and falling with panting breaths, his eyes screwed closed and a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. "Hey," Darcy said, setting her and Jane's drinks on the floor in the corner before straightening and giving him her full attention. "Hey, you're okay. Bucky. Hey, what's going on?"

Bucky's chest ached, tightness squeezing the air from his lungs. The feel of metal surrounding him was suddenly too much, memory after brutal memory replaying in his mind. He couldn't talk around the terror, imagining the cold that would soon travel up his legs, the biting frost that always accompanied the punishment of the cryotube. He could hear Darcy's voice, low and insistent, and it just barely cut through the anticipation of pain. He blinked his eyes open, attempting to hide the horror, but knowing he failed. He found no words to answer her, but shook his head from side to side.

Surprise and fear pinged through Darcy, confusion making way for worry. It was obvious that he was dealing with _something_ , probably spurred on by the suddenness of the situation they found themselves in. She'd never been a fan of enclosed spaces either, but what was in Bucky's eyes was more than enough to steel her nerves. When he stayed silent, she lifted her hand in a calming gesture. Memories bubbled to the surface, days when Erik's anxiety had been too much and she'd had to help him through the panic. She wasn't sure if this was the same thing, but since it was her only experience with panic attacks, she hoped the assistance was the same. 

"That's okay. You don't have to answer me. Just listen to my voice, okay? I'm right here. We're safe." When he shook his head, she gave him what she hoped was a comforting smile. "Okay, we're safe relatively speaking. The elevator just went down, but they're working on it. It shouldn't be long." Darcy knew she was talking out of her ass, and had no way to tell how long they'd be stuck, but if it made him feel one _iota_ of reassurance, she reasoned the white lie was for the best. "We're going to be fine, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky tried to focus on her voice, and the calmness in her tone, but every blink of the red emergency light colored his world in blood, until he was drowning in crimson, just like his nightmares. Except he wasn't _in_ one of nightmares, and Steve _would not_ be there when he woke. Steve was gone, not even in the country, and there was nothing that could temper the terror that gripped him.

"Is there someone I can call for you?" Darcy reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She frowned when she found she had no service, an expletive falling from her lips. She glanced back up at Bucky, watching a bead of sweat slide down the side of his face and feeling helpless. "I'm sorry, I don't -"

"Steve's..." Bucky swallowed hard, saying it aloud somehow making it worse, "... gone."

His voice was so rough and strained that it took a second for Darcy's brain to catch up. Realization widened her eyes, and she nodded several times in quick succession, trying to figure out what she could do to help. "Okay, right, okay, and he's your person. That makes sense. I get that. I feel the same when Janey's not here. What kind of stuff does he do to make you feel better? Do you have someone? Someone you talk with about this kind of stuff?"

Her questions were difficult to swallow, but so was his lack of an answer; Steve didn't do anything to help his anxiety, because Bucky'd done such a thorough job of deflecting the other man's worries. He'd spoken to both Steve and Natasha about seeing someone, about going to therapy,but it was all in hypotheticals. Things said to ease their worry so he didn't have to face the knowledge that he was too far gone. He knew the people who loved him were just trying to help, but his verbal cartwheels and dismissive gestures had led him _here_ , panicking in an elevator that had triggered his anxiety and brought dark thoughts to the surface. He'd self-sabotaged himself, and this was the inevitable conclusion. This was his fault.

 _All my fault_.

The shake of Bucky's head was silent, but its meaning was apparent. It was clear he was in rough shape, and since they didn't know how long they'd be stuck, Darcy realized _she_ was the one who needed to help him. Feeling more than a little out of her depth, Darcy's brain ran in circles, trying to recall the research she'd done years ago to help Erik. Taking a deep breath, Darcy shrugged out of her coat, dropping it next to her feet and pushing her sleeves up her arms. "Well, we'll do what we can, okay?" Taking quick stock of his body, her attention focused on his hands. He was bunched into the corner, both hands gripping the rails on either side, knuckles white. "First, can you loosen your grip? Relax your hands?"

It took a moment for her words to filter to his brain, and on the heels of her question, Bucky finally felt the tension in his body. Blinking his eyes open, the dark red light still tilting his world on its head, it took him several seconds before his hands slackened and he could follow her commands. The very fact that he was _taking_ commands made his anxiety worsen; he found himself reeling, unable to swallow past the contradiction, a war in his chest and in his throat.

Tongue darting out to wet her dry lips, Darcy took the win for what it was. As she watched his chest rise and fall erratically, she worried that he might be close to passing out. "Your breathing's pretty heavy. Can you take in a deep breath?" She took a step closer to him, and the movement caused a reaction. Darcy's heart beat roared when his hand darted out, gunmetal grey fingers wrapping around her upper arm and holding her fast. His eyes were open wide, his lips parted, his entire body like a statue. A flash of fear went through Darcy, the only blush she'd had since the first fateful day they'd shared an elevator together.

Attempting to slow her _own_ heartbeat, Darcy pushed the fear aside. She'd just moved too quickly. He was on a knife's edge, reminding her so much of Erik that her chest constricted. "Hey, no," she breathed, not moving back from where he gripped her, "we're fine. We're both fine. Do you, I mean, would something to fiddle with help? Something to hold in your hands?" She used her foot to pull her bag closer, cursing when its contents spilled across the floor. She had a Rubik's cube _somewhere_ , just one of the many ways she distracted Jane from biting her cuticles. She froze when Bucky's fingers trailed down her arm until he could grip her hand, squeezing _just this side_ of too hard.

Surprise lit Darcy's expression, the back and forth of the last few minutes taking her from one emotion to the next. It was clear to her that if Bucky wanted to hurt her, he could. It was a fact. There would be no escape for her. Obviously that would be the case with _anyone_ she shared an elevator with, but this was different. As she blinked at him, and he blinked at her, Darcy realized she wasn't the _only_ one that'd been surprised by their physical contact. She looked into Bucky's eyes, wider and filled with more than she could decipher, but under all the weight, she could recognize bare and naked vulnerability.

She'd never stopped to consider that the soldier could be thinking the exact same thing that she was: it wasn't just the fact that _he_ could hurt _her_ , but that _she_ could hurt _**him**_. It was difficult to wrap her head around, since she could barely swat mosquitoes without breaking a sweat, but the level of his anxiety put him in an unguarded and uncertain situation. Right now _he_ was the one at risk, and Darcy threw herself headfirst into making sure he knew she wasn't going to hurt him. "It's okay, Bucky," she said, her hand squeezing his softly in reassurance, "everything's going to be okay."

Bucky's eyes fluttered closed as he began breathing again, taking in a deep lungful then blowing it slowly past his lips, humming slightly with the pressure. Her hand was warm in his, the metal distributing the heat, and he did what she'd told him to do before, taking another deep breath and letting it out. He hated being this defenseless, letting someone be this close when he was at risk, but Darcy had done nothing but comfort him since she realized something was wrong. It was a leap of faith, putting his care in her hands, but he didn't have a choice. Black was still threatening on the edge of his vision, everything going blurry, but he let her take another step closer, their clasped hands hanging between them.

"How about we take a seat, yeah? If we're going to be here for a while, we could at least be comfortable." Now that Bucky wasn't gripping the railing and instead gripping _her_ , the pair of them managed to lower themselves to the floor. He stayed in his corner, gaze unfocused, and Darcy did her best to be calm enough for the both of them. There was a slight tremor in his fingers and she wrapped his hand in both of hers, hoping it helped. "I'm sure it's just a glitch in the system. Even Stark's tech is gonna have issues from time to time. They'll get us moving soon. We've just got to wait it out."

It felt like Bucky was underwater. His ears sounded muffled, the red light making his eyes hurt, and the longer he sat there, the closer he felt to breaking. It was hard for him to stay present, memory after memory assaulting him. He felt every scar, every injury, every pain he'd ever inflicted weighing on his chest, and the more he tried to hold it back, the more tenuous his grasp of reality became. Though he _knew_ it wouldn't, his mind anticipated the frozen cold of the cryotube, his body beginning to shake in fearful response.

The worry in Darcy only grew when the soldier began to shiver beside her, watching his jaw tighten to keep his teeth from chattering. Her hand lifted on instinct, wanting to make sure he wasn't _actually_ sick, and she froze when the fingers not gripping hers wrapped around her wrist, the widened grey storm of his gaze swinging toward her. "Sorry, _fuck_ , I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Feeling like an idiot, as she already _knew_ fast movements weren't kosher, she held his eyes and tried to make her voice as calm as possible. "I just wanted to make sure you're not feverish."

They stayed there, silent for several seconds, one of his hands wrapped tightly around hers, the other frozen in the air between them. When he released the hold on her free hand and leaned his head closer, Darcy let out the breath she'd been holding. Though his gaze was unfocused, she could see the fear in his eyes. Bucky was afraid something would be done to him, being this vulnerable, and a wave of sadness crashed in her chest at the thought. Though it was slow going, he seemed to be opening up to her, putting some of his safety in her hands. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, and other than the sheen of sweat that still glistened, it didn't appear he was running a fever.

When looking into his frightened eyes became too much, Darcy shifted, _slower_ this time in an effort not to surprise him. "Here," she said, grabbing her discarded coat and balling it up, putting it in her lap. Again, like there was some kind of disconnect in his mind and her words, she waited for recognition to light his eyes. She knew he had no reason to feel comfortable with her, but she was doing her best to appear honest, and empathetic, and if she had to _pretend_ that they knew each other better than they actually did, she was ready for the act.

Blinking at her, Bucky's gaze flicked from the coat in her lap to her face, his thoughts sluggish. Though his body still shivered with cold, he could feel the sweat on his brow, sliding down the side of his neck and along his spine. It felt like the walls of the elevator were squeezing him, leaving his hands shaking and his breathing labored. He did his best to stay present, but with the weight of his nightmares and anxieties, it was hard to stay inside his own head. He almost wished the black of unconsciousness would take him, vulnerabilities be damned.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Bucky. I swear."

Her voice broke through the haze and Bucky held her gaze, searching for eyes for any sign that she was being duplicitous, anything that made him feel unsafe. There was nothing there except honest worry about him. Confusion pinged through his person, trying to figure out when he'd started to see Darcy as a _friend_ , let alone someone he felt _safe_ around. His breath hitched on the way in, his eyes closing as a new wave of anxiety tightened his chest, but he was pulled out of the tailspin when her fingers tightened around his, pulling him back from the precipice he was teetering on. Teeth clenching, Bucky nodded once at Darcy before he began to move. He felt like he was neck-deep in molasses, everything slow and muted, but between the two of them, he rearranged so his head was in Darcy's lap, his eyes slowly blinking up at the careful smile turning her lips.

Ignoring the desire to reach out and brush the hair from his forehead, Darcy leaned her back against the elevator wall, giving him her entire attention. "How often do you get panic attacks?" A soft look of confusion colored Bucky's eyes, and the bottom of Darcy's stomach dropped. She was no expert, not by any means, but she had a little knowledge from experience. "I mean, I'm no doctor, but I think that's what this is. A panic attack. Or anxiety attack. Heavy breathing, sweating, heart racing. Seems pretty textbook. Have you had any of them this bad before?"

The shake of his head twisted her heart, seeing the weight of everything in his eyes, and since she could tell he wasn't ready to talk just yet, she had no problems carrying the conversation. "Erik Selvig, he's this genius, but he had to deal with some pretty rough stuff after the battle of New York. He's okay. He's better. Time helped. He might not be perfect, but nobody is, right? I'm convinced scientists are like a whole different species. My mom always had part of her mind blocked off, running through data even while being able to carry a conversation. It made it pretty easy to transition into working with Janey. She's a little more _here_ when she's working on a problem, which helps. When things got bad with Vigs, we'd both work together to bring him back from the edge. There was this one time where ..."

As she filled the elevator with her stories, Bucky found himself drifting away on her voice, calm and captivating and somehow able to break through the fog. It was a familiar feeling, and though he tried his best, he couldn't figure out why the sensation was so familiar. It was on the edges of his thoughts, out of reach, and just as the anxiety began to rise again, Darcy's tranquility broke him free. He couldn't focus on what she was saying, only every other sentence, but the very fact that she was there in the first place slowed his heartbeat.

Darcy smoothed her free hand down Bucky's arm as she spoke, trying to be dynamic, wanting to pull his focus from the war raging inside his head and redirect it toward her. Distraction had always been something Darcy excelled at; she'd used it with her mom, and Selvig, and Jane, and it was a skill she'd mastered. If Bucky needed to be distracted, she had more than enough stories to fill up the time until they could get moving again.

There was a disconnect in Bucky's head, something inside fighting against the calmness Darcy was projecting. With a start, it all clicked into place, and he felt the breath pass his lips, silently in shock. The last time he'd felt this pull, letting him claw against the soldier, had been during the fight with Steve in the streets, and again on the hellicarrier. His history with Steve was long, and deep, and if anyone had been able to break through the fog, it was his first love. The fact that _this_ woman had also been able to coax the soldier and silence him, though he'd only barely known her for a scant number of weeks, left him perplexed. He wanted to analyze the knowledge, to pick it apart until he knew what it was about her that made the difference, but the longer he blinked up at her, the more tired he felt. He could finally relax, his body shedding the anxiety as he focused on nothing but her steady, calm tone.

She'd seen the wrinkles in his forehead lessen over time, the color in his cheeks evening, and even though his eyes were still unfocused, Darcy could tell that _something_ had worked. There'd been a stiffening of his shoulders, a panicked wideness to his eyes, but all that was gone now. As her hand continued in its circuit up and down his arm, her other hand still wrapped in his, Darcy lowered her voice, wondering if she'd be able to lull him to sleep, then wondering if that would be a bad thing. She wished she could reach out to Jane, or Selvig, the people she went to when she wasn't sure about something, but she couldn't. It was just her and Bucky, and that's all she had. "But that was only the _second_ spectrum analyzer that Jane had somehow found a way to break. The _third_ time was entirely my fault, but she never -"

" _Ms. Lewis_?"

Bucky's eyes had been fluttering closed, exhaustion setting in, but the sound of Friday's voice in the car made them snap open. His heartbeat began to speed again, the bubble that Darcy had built around them shattering. He realized just how vulnerable he'd been, and sat up quickly, letting Darcy's hand slip from his. He couldn't explain the vacillation in his emotions - somehow going from quiet tranquility to disbelieving unsettledness in less than a second. All the careful calm that Darcy had given him disappeared in an instant, his tired body regaining all its stiffness as he cast a look around the elevator like the space itself would have an answer.

"We're okay, Friday," Darcy said, her eyes not leaving Bucky as he put his back against the wall, gray gaze swinging. 

" _The elevators will begin moving momentarily. Should I alert medical staff that Sergeant Barnes_ -"

" **No** ," Bucky said with a firm shake of his head, "no medical."

"Are you sure?" When the weight of Bucky's gaze landed back on her, Darcy felt a crash of concern, wishing she could do more to help him. He shook his head again, eyes steady, and Darcy didn't have it in herself to argue with him. "Friday, we're fine."

" _Okay. It should only be a few more minutes._ "

As quiet fell over them again, Darcy busied herself with gathering her things, the contents of her purse somehow in every corner of the confined space, She grabbed what she could, stuffing it out of sight, then held Bucky's sweat-drenched hoodie in his direction. He took it from her with steady hands, and that was enough to lift some of the worry from her shoulders. She might have been just shooting in the dark when it came to what she hoped would help him, but the fact that he hadn't passed out, hadn't _freaked_ out, and seemed to be semi-normal was a bigger win than she thought she'd be able to eke out. "How are you feeling?"

Her question filtered to his ears, and Bucky took a second to really consider his response. He felt like he’d been in a fist fight. For _hours_. It reminded him so much of the first days after he’d left Steve on that shore, wreckage of the hellicarriers and Triskelion still burning. He’d been lost, relying on his training, finding an empty apartment and collapsing inside.

Bucky had slept for an entire day. It was possible he’d have slept for several more if the withdrawal symptoms hadn’t taken control. He’d woken up freezing, his clothes drenched in sweat, his whole body shaking. The little he’d had in his stomach returned, and every noise kept him on edge as his body learned how to live without the drug cocktail that he was normally fed after a mission. 

Everything had hurt, and though he knew it shouldn’t have, Bucky felt like he’d just gone through it all again. Darcy was still looking at him, earnest worry and concern on her face, and he couldn’t explain _why_ , but even after _everything_ she’d just seen - the pain, the trauma, the fear, the vulnerabilities - he loathed the idea of showing her any more of his weaknesses. “I’m alright,” he finally answered, his voice unsteady. 

“Are you sure? Because I could - _ooop_ ,” Darcy said, darting forward and wrapping her hand around his prosthetic, keeping him on his feet. For a split second when he’d taken his first step out of the elevator, Darcy had thought that maybe Bucky was telling the truth. Maybe he really _was_ alright. When his knees buckled, she’d managed to catch him before he could hurt himself. “It’s okay, Bucky, I’ve got you. How about I walk you to your door?”

Grey eyes focused on Darcy’s fingers, the red color of her nails reminding him of the crimson star that had been painted on his left arm. Swallowing hard, he found himself nodding, too weak to do anything but let her lead him out of the elevator. 

Darcy moved slowly, making sure Bucky was steady. She only knew to go left out of the elevator, as that was the direction he always went, and since he’d always just got done working out, she could only _assume_ his room was in that direction. He didn’t correct her but just shuffled at her side, his feet barely lifting from the ground. Darcy glanced over at him, her lips turning down as she watched the exhaustion fill his eyes. When Erik had his attacks, it wasn’t uncommon for him to sleep for an entire day from a tiredness that had seemed to seep into his bones. 

As they turned a corner, the hallway opened up to their left. Much like her and Jane’s floor, there was a large living area filled with flat screens, plush couches and shiny coffee tables, a kitchen (that she knew would be fully stocked), and a conference table. Toward the end of the hallway, there were three doors in the wall. Darcy assumed _one_ of them would lead to Bucky’s room, but she didn’t want to guess. Looking over at him, she did her best to give him a comforting smile. “Which one’s yours?”

Bucky nodded his head toward his and Steve’s rooms, letting her lead him in that direction. His eyes felt itchy, and heavy, and it took a substantial amount of energy to put one foot in front of the other. With what mental faculties he _did_ have, he realized that he was showing a stranger where he and Steve slept. It was a risk, but he wasn’t sure it could be helped. She was warm at his side, radiating comfort, and Bucky tried to let it ease his mind. Darcy had kept him from falling apart - a dangerous man she didn’t know - and that deserved a little trust. 

When they came to stand in front of his door, Bucky shifted his weight away from Darcy and stood on his own, reaching down to open the biometric lock. He glanced over at her, hazel eyes tinted with support, but couldn’t make his tongue form words. As his mind tumbled, filled with so much that it left his throat in a vice, Bucky could do nothing but nod at her, hoping she saw gratitude in his gaze amongst the ghosts shining through.

Darcy waited until he’d crossed the threshold into his room, giving the man a smile. He nodded at her again before slowly shutting the door. When he was out of sight, Darcy let out the breath she’d been holding, shoulders hunching forward. She felt a bit exhausted herself, the tiredness that came with taking care of others weighing on her shoulders. 

Taking care of others had been her job for as long as she could remember. She’d taken care of her mother growing up, recognizing the genius in Abigail Lewis but also seeing the near mania that could take over the scientist when she was close to a breakthrough. It’d become familiar, and after her mother had died in the car accident, Darcy had felt bereft without a target for her organization and empathy. Applying for Jane’s internship had changed the entire trajectory of her life, but she couldn’t _imagine_ having it any other way.

She made her way back toward the elevator, retracing the slow steps they’d taken together. The elevator was still sitting there, the doors open, her purse and its contents still strewn around the interior. Darcy pressed the button that would take her up one floor, shoving everything in her bag and grabbing the certainly cold drinks that she’d set aside at the first notion that something was wrong with Bucky.

As the car began to move, Darcy chewed on her lower lip. She knew what it was like to show the same vulnerabilities that Bucky had, and part of her worried that the pseudo-friendship that had grown between them would be washed aside by embarrassment and awkwardness. It wasn’t easy to look someone in the eye after you’d fallen apart in front of them, and she couldn’t help but think that Bucky would distance himself from the person that’d seen him so low.

Taking a few seconds to center herself, accepting then swallowing her own tiredness, Darcy blinked when the elevator doors opened and a _very_ concerned Jane Foster was waiting. “Hey.”

“Hey? _Hey_?! Are you serious? I was worried sick!”

Darcy shrugged a shoulder, holding out the cold tea with lemon and honey. “I’m fine. I’m good, I promise. I wasn’t sure you’d even notice I was late.”

Jane frowned. “What do you mean?”

There was a hint of hurt in Jane’s tone, and Darcy took a step closer to her best friend. “No, I don’t mean in a bad way, I just know how you can get wrapped up in something and lose track of time.”

“There were alarms going off. Then I looked at the time and realized you’d probably be on your way up, and the A.I. told me you were fine, but then the alarms turned off and you _still_ weren’t up here and I started to get worried again, but -”

“Janey,” Darcy said with a smile, “you’re adorable and I love my personal pocket-sized astrophysicist, but I promise that I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Though Jane’s gaze didn’t lose it’s worry, she followed Darcy back into their lab. “I hope you didn’t have to use these cups for any unintended purposes while you were stuck in there.” 

“No, Janey-Louise, there is no pee in your tea. At least not mine. I can’t guarantee what goes on in that cafe behind the scenes.” The affronted noise Jane made sent Darcy into giggles. “Sorry. It’s just been an interesting morning. Okay. Notes. Tell me what you got.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we've all heard the phrase "You can't love anyone until you love yourself."  
> Part of me agrees with this statement, but another part can't help but _dis_ agree.  
> I believe that in loving others, we learn to love ourselves.  
> When you give your time/energy/attention/devotion to someone, whether romantic or platonic, you should feel some of it reflecting back to yourself.  
> If you give your whole heart to someone and they do not return the passion and flames, that doesn't reflect on _you_ , it should show you that you're _worthy_ of the same commitment and attention.  
> Throwing pennies in a well that has no bottom will not be able to fill you up.  
> You deserve someone there beside you, grinning just as brightly.  
> Someone who will not only be there for you when you _need_ it, but when you _don't_. When they're just along for the ride because they want to be at your side.  
>  _That's_ the kind of love you deserve, and if you're not able to give it to yourself just yet, that's okay.  
> The people who are worth it will wait.  
> And you're _worth every penny_.


	16. Floating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve, Tony, Thor, and Natasha return stateside. Steve checks in on Bucky after the elevator fiasco. Bucky takes a step forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> You guys, is it weird to be happy that it's Monday? Because I am!  
> I feel like this has been being built up to, and I'm excited to put it out there!  
> I hope you enjoy it!  
> Thank you for all the comments/kudos/reblogs/likes! You lot are AMAZING.  
>   
> 

_Words can be like knives_  
_They can cut you open_  
_And the silence surrounds you_  
_And hunts you_  
_I think I might've inhale you_  
_I could feel you behind my eyes_  
_You gotten into my bloodstream_  
_I could feel you floating in me_  
_The spaces in between_  
_Two minds and all the places they have been_  
_The spaces in between_  


**Bloodstream - Stateless**

“How did something like this happen?”

Looking up from his phone, Tony accepted the glare Steve was pointing in his direction and matched it with one of his own. “As if this is _my_ fault?”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, the dark expression on his face only showing half the turmoil that was raging in his head. He watched Natasha’s lips purse as she watched the back and forth, some thought flashing behind her green eyes. Turning his attention back to Tony, the soldier shook his head. “You said the tower was nearly impenetrable.”

Tony let out a sound of offense before he lifted his hand and held up a finger to Steve. “One? I never said that.” He added another finger in the air. “Two? This was a _computer_ attack. It’s a little different than someone storming the doors and demanding entry. That’s why we have you and Barnes helping Happy with the physical security.”

“Someone could have gotten hurt, Tony.”

“You mean your _guy_ might have gotten hurt, right?”

When Steve’s arms dropped to his sides and he took in a breath, Natasha moved to stand by his side. “Boys. I’m really glad you could swing by and pick me up, but we can be angry with each other _after_ we figure out what happened.”

Holding up his phone, Tony flicked it forward. A glowing web appeared to hover in the space, a mishmash of lines and bright, blinking lights. “What do you think I’ve been doing since we got on the jet? Friday’s already reviewed most of the log files and most of the services are already back online. I’ve been digging through the rest line by line.”

Steve frowned, shifting when Tony looked over at him. “It looked like you were just texting people.”

“Well, you know what they said about assuming.”

Thor took a step closer to the trio, a grin on his face. “And what do they say?”

“Well, King Triton, they say it makes an ass out of you and him.”

The confusion that crossed Thor’s face made one corner of Natasha’s mouth turn up in response. When the Asgardian chose to let the comment drop instead of it being explained to him, Natasha watched the schematic in front of them strobe, her face sobering. “If they’d gotten in…”

“People will never stop finding new ways to kill someone.”

Tony climbed to his feet, his eyes rolling at the comment from Steve. “No one was in danger of dying, Captain Drama Queen.”

“There was someone else in the elevator with Bucky, Tony. What if the brakes had failed?”

“There are failsafes in place.”

“And if those were taken down, too? What then?”

“How about you let me do _my_ job and you –“

“ _Boys!_ ” The three men sharing the jet looked over at Natasha in varying states of chagrin. “I think it’s great that we’re all working together again, but maybe you could tone down the testosterone and non-subtle contempt? Someone attacked our home. We need to find out who, why, and how. Steve, go check on Bucky. Tony?” She shared a long look with the billionaire before giving him a veiled smirk, recognizing the playful glint in his eyes. “Do your thing.”

Tony gestured gratefully in the spy’s direction, ignoring the unimpressed looks from Steve and Thor. ”Finally! Someone with some sense!”

“The _only_ one here with sense, it seems,” she agreed, eyes flashing when Steve gave her his patented ‘Captain Exasperation’ look. “It’s a hard position, but the perks are great.” The anger and worry had faded from his gaze, and as that’d been her goal, Natasha let herself feel satisfaction at having navigated her teammate’s issues and putting them on the same side again.

“Everything’s back online. I’ll find out what happened and make sure it can’t happen again. I’ve got an upstart in Engineering, a bit of a rising star. I might bring him in on this, have him take a look, see if I missed anything.”

“Rising star?”

Tony cleared his throat and gave the soldier a shrug of his shoulder. “He’s been hanging around for a bit. Seems like he deserves a chance in the big leagues. We’ll see if he can stick it.”

“This is the second time in as many days that I’ve heard you offer to share your knowledge with someone, Stark.”

Tongue clicking, Tony shook his head at Thor. “Not true. I share knowledge all the time. My _genius_ , though, is too heavy and massive for most to handle.”

“Just like your hammer,” Natasha murmured, feeling Steve turn at her side and hide a smile behind his hand where the god couldn’t see it.

“ _Exactly_ like his hammer. Some people just aren’t worthy.”

“I’m surprised the jet can handle the weight of all your egos.” When the three men turned to look at her, Natasha lifted and dropped one of her shoulders gracefully.

When Steve opened the door to his and Bucky’s rooms, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Tony had assured him that the incident would be looked into, and that fixes would be put in place to keep it from happening again, but it didn’t change the fact that it _had_ happened. When Friday had given an update, informing them that there were no physical injuries, he’d let out the breath he’d been holding, relief flooding his chest. When the A.I. had continued and informed him that Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Lewis had been stuck in an elevator for nearly an hour and a half, his concern had come roaring back.

He knew it wasn’t Tony’s fault - well, _part_ of him knew that - but the idea that Bucky might have been hurt while he was on a mission formed a ball of guilt in Steve’s throat that was nearly impossible to breathe around. The night he and Bucky had shared was still fresh in his mind, the hope that things were headed in a better direction. He couldn’t help but worry that the situation might have pushed back Bucky’s healing.

Their rooms were quiet, and Steve didn’t see the lumps on the bed that signified Bucky was sleeping. His gaze slid toward the bathroom when he heard the toilet flush, a sliver of light showing from underneath the door. He waited until Bucky pulled the door open, eyes pouring over his best friend, looking for wounds while knowing they’d be invisible. “Are you alright?”

Bucky’d frozen when he’d pulled open the door to find Steve standing as still as a statue in the doorway, the concern in his blue eyes thick. Wiping his face with the towel in his hands, Bucky tossed it back on the counter before flipping off the light, crossing to the bed, and taking a seat. This was going to be a Conversation, and he didn’t want to stand the entire time. “I’m fine.”

“You’re _not_ fine. You look -”

“I’m sorry.”

The words from Bucky’s lips successfully stopped the ones from Steve’s, and the blonde took a step closer, confusion bare on his face. “What?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Bucky said, his body not moving but his gaze swinging to look at his best friend. 

Still uncertain what Bucky had to be sorry about, Steve took a step closer to the man. “You’re sorry for what?”

“I broke down yesterday.”

The four word explanation didn’t give much clarity, and Steve stopped beside the bed, looking down at Bucky, his lips pulled into a frown. “Bucky, that’s not -”

“Yes it is. It is my fault. _Was_ my fault. I’ve told you and Nat that I’ll go see a therapist, but I haven’t. I’m not sure I would have if -”

Steve took a heavy seat on the bed. “Buck -”

“Just let me finish, Steve.” He waited until he saw Steve look over at him, waiting until the other man’s jaw clenched and he nodded, before he began. “I need help. I’ve tried to ignore it, hoping it’d get better, but it hasn’t. Thinking about talking to someone about this...” He shook his head, wet hair brushing across his shoulders. “I was terrified of opening myself up like that to someone. The things in my head… I didn’t want to lay that on anyone else. It’s too heavy. It’s too much.”

Steve reached out and carefully placed a hand on Bucky’s knee. “You’re not the first person who doesn’t want to go to therapy, Buck. It wasn’t easy for me, either.”

“I know,” Bucky said, breath rushing out as he felt another wave of guilt and petty uselessness. “I know I need help. I can’t ignore or lie about it anymore.”

It wasn’t hard to see or hear the vulnerability Bucky was hemorrhaging, and Steve didn’t have it in him to be anything but comforting. “What happened?”

“I was stuck in that elevator,” Bucky said, a huff of futile, superficial laughter breaking free, “just a stuck elevator, but it felt like a _tomb_. I was back in that cryotube, waiting for the cold, and I had no control over myself. I was terrified, and helpless, and _anyone_ could have hurt me like that. And _she_ was there, and she helped more than anything, but -”

Steve frowned. “How’d you -”

Continuing like Steve hadn’t spoken, Bucky pushed on, the words desperate. “I’ve been so worried about shifting, of having the Soldier take over, of _hurting_ someone, that I never even considered that it might not be someone else getting hurt. It might be _me_. I had absolutely no control over what happened. I was just a victim, waiting for someone to hurt me. I was lucky it was _her_ and not anyone else, but I was _helpless_ , Steve. I can’t do that again. Would you…” He focused on Steve again, reaching out to squeeze his best friend’s hand. “Would you talk to Sam? See if he knows someone?”

“There are plenty of people on staff.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t want someone here. I’m _afraid_ to leave this building. I’m afraid of going _outside_. I’m afraid of _talking_ to people.” He shook his head, resolve lighting into his eyes. “I have to stop. I have to push myself, or it’ll never get better.”

Steve could see the fear in Bucky, but under all of it was determination. Whatever had happened in the elevator seemed to have stoked something in his best friend, and Steve hoped it was the kick Bucky needed to start taking care of himself. But, more than that, Steve realized that he couldn’t let Bucky slide either. He’d let Bucky’s reassurances quiet his worry, when he really should have stayed firm. “Then we’ll push. If that’s what you need, whatever it is, we’ll do it.”

The courage he could see in Steve’s eyes settled something in Bucky. For the first time in a while, he felt like there was hope on the horizon. The dam might have broken, but it seemed he had two things keeping him afloat. One was the man sitting at his side, but the other was a dark-haired woman who shared her music and left everything on her face. Between Darcy’s measured calmness and Steve’s willpower, he felt like he could finally hold his head above water again. “Good.”

_You fight me off like a firefighter_  
_So tell me why you still get burned_  
_You say you're not, but you're still a liar_  
_'Cause I'm the one that you run to first_

Darcy’s fingers danced over the keyboard, the light from her laptop coloring her glasses with an electronic sheen. After taking photos of the newest whiteboard scribblings from Jane’s nightly manic sciencing, the astrophysicist’s assistant had settled down to record all the random notes her best friend had left her. While her methods might have made no sense to anyone else, Darcy was able to ferret out the ideas and lines of thought Jane had traversed.

She might not understand what the genius was hypothesizing, but Darcy knew very well that every single scrap of brainstorm needed to be saved and cataloged, able to be pulled up at a moment’s notice for verification. It was why the system they’d created was so important; an errant idea could be the difference between life and death. Perhaps it was a silly notion, and if their lives were any more mundane it might mean nothing, but their lives _weren’t_ mundane and Darcy took her job seriously.

_Every time, yeah, why do you try to deny it_  
_When you show up every night and tell me that you want me_  
_But it's complicated, so complicated_

When Darcy had climbed onto the elevator that morning, she hadn’t been sure what to expect. After the excitement on Friday, she’d been on pins and needles, a thick ball of worry in her throat whenever she thought about the last time she’d seen James Barnes. In fact, _most_ of the weekend had been spent thinking about the man she’d helped through a panic attack, or anxiety attack, or whatever had left the soldier terrified and vulnerable. She’d analyzed her own actions, looking for a mistake or a miscue, hoping that the weekend had been good for Bucky and gifted him with some peace.

As the car had climbed, Darcy’d found herself fixated on the floor numbers, taking in a deep breath and holding it as they neared the floor he always joined her on. When the car did not slow and passed right by without stopping, the air had hissed passed her lips with disappointment, a disappointment so deep that she realized her eyes had started to sting with tears.

_When it hurts, but it hurts so good_  
_Do you take it? Do you break it off?_  
_When it hurts, but it hurts so good_  
_Can you say it, can you say it?_

It’d been a possibility, of course, and one she’d anticipated. Being near someone so exposed always held the risk of rejection, for the simple fact that no one liked showing someone else how liable they could be. Weakness was a hard pill to swallow, especially in someone attempting to appear so strong, and Darcy had reasoned that in order for the soldier to save face, he’d avoid showing his to her again.

The rest of her solo elevator had been ridden in silence, trying to ignore the ache of failure that settled behind her ribs and strobed with renunciation. After bringing Jane her tea and dumping her best friend into bed, Darcy had focused on her work, a good distraction from the thoughts that were tumbling behind her expression, a bitter taste on the back of her tongue. Going through the motions helped, and as the music blared in her ears, she let it quiet the heaviness of her mind.

_Every time that I swear it's over_  
_It makes you want me even more_  
_You pull away and I come in closer_  
_And all we ever stay is torn_

Pushing his way into Foster’s lab, Tony was surprised to find the space filled with silence. After his last check in, when he’d been assaulted with screaming lyrics and the unrelenting beat of drums, he’d expected to find much the same. He was caught off guard, then, when he could’ve heard a pin drop to the heated, tile floor.

Teeth clicking as he moved further into the space, Tony weaved between the tables, dark gaze flicking from machine to machine and looking for any hint that the scientist and her assistant were in. Under the silence he was able to make out an almost whisper-like noise, vindicated when he discovered a shock of dark hair seated in front of a computer. “Ms. Lewis, just who I was coming to see.”

_Wide awake through the daylight_  
_Will you hold me like we're running a yellow light?_  
_Reach for you with my hands tied_  
_Are we dancing like we're burning in paradi -_

When a hand squeezed her shoulder, the sound that tore from Darcy’s throat was strangled. In one smooth motion, she slipped from her stool, reaching up to rip one of her ear buds out, catching herself on the table as she spun to face whatever had snuck up behind her. She had definitely _not_ expected to come face-to-face with Tony Stark. “ _Jesus! Fuck!_ ”

Tony held his open hands to the woman, eyes widening softly, her colorful expletives making it clear he’d managed to sneak up on her. “Hey! Lewis, it’s fine, we’re good. You good? We’re good.”

Holding a hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat thudding in her ears, body tingling with a release of adrenaline that left her gasping, Darcy couldn’t help the glare she shot at the billionaire. “Mr. Stark,” she finally managed, knowing that attempting to hide how badly he’d scared her was useless, “you’re here.”

“Yes,” he agreed, watching as she straightened and tried to clear her expression of surprise and fear, “I am here.”

“Sorry. I was working and my brain -”

“It’s fine, I get it. You’re not the only one who’s been so caught up in work that they ignore their personal safety.”

Darcy’s tongue clicked as she tossed her earbuds next to her computer, “pretty sure this is supposed to be one of the safest buildings on the planet.”

“That’s actually why I’m here.” When Darcy’s head cocked to the side, confusion in the hazel of her eyes, Tony took a step closer. “Friday told me you got stuck in the elevator last week.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, I was. It’s no big deal. I’m fine.”

“It actually _is_ a big deal, and -”

“- no, really -”

“ _Lewis_ , I’m trying to -”

“- it’s a big building, things are bound to go wrong -”

“ **Lewis!** ” When her mouth clicked closed, the volume of his voice stopping the flow of her words, Tony let out the breath he’d been holding and ran a hand over his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against one of the work tables, watching as she re-took her stool and looked at him with expectation. “Things aren’t supposed to go wrong. Not in _my_ buildings.”

Frowning, Darcy tried to wrap her head around the displeased expression on Stark’s face. She tried to keep the words from falling past her lips, but between the surprise and uncertainty, they slipped anyway. “Sorry to tell you this, but it’s pretty much popular knowledge that you make messes.”

It was obvious that she hadn’t meant to say what she did, and Tony decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Gotta break a few eggs, you know.”

“It’s okay. I mean, you’re a _literal_ genius. You make souls out of code.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond but then closed it, his brown eyes focusing on the younger woman. He looked for any sign of snarky pretense, any signal that she was fucking with him, but found only honest regard. It took another moment before he was able to formulate an appropriate response. “Pretty language.”

Darcy’s lips curled into a smile. “Thank you.”

“Did you -” 

Both Tony and Darcy went quiet when movement in their peripheral vision pulled their gazes. The pair seemed equally as shocked to find a subdued Bucky Barnes standing near the door to the lab, the door hushing closed behind him. Tony risked a glance at Darcy, trying to gauge her surprise at the new visitor. She appeared just as startled, and he couldn’t help looking back and forth between the unlikely pair. “You’re not both plotting a lawsuit about the elevator, are you?”

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Darcy felt the cold hand of confusion tighten around her mind. Being surprised by Tony Stark was one thing, but to have Bucky Barnes - the man who’d taken up most of her thoughts for the past three days - show up out of nowhere left her feeling thrown. She wracked her brain, trying to think of a reason Barnes would suddenly show up in the lab. Had she said or done something wrong? Was he coming to yell at her?

The longer she looked at Barnes, the more uncertain she felt. Deciding to focus on what she _could_ understand, Darcy turned back to Tony. “I don’t want your money, Stark.”

Though his words were to Darcy, Tony kept his gaze steady on Barnes. “You’re one of the first to say that to me with a straight face.”

“I always have a straight face,” Darcy said, her voice holding a hint of distraction. “Why? Would you rather have people _lie_ to you?” Uncertain why, she watched both men straighten, sharing a look that she didn’t understand. There was suddenly a heaviness in the space, something that had nothing to do with her and _everything_ to do with the soldier and the engineer. 

Tony tore his gaze from Bucky’s, eyes swinging to look at Darcy. It appeared she was just as surprised to see Barnes in her lab as she’d been to see _him_ , making it clear this wasn’t exactly a normal occurrence. He couldn’t explain _why_ , but Tony found himself taking a step closer to Darcy, a frown turning his lips. “You okay?”

Blinking clear from her stupor, Darcy’s eyes flicked toward Tony, unable to place the weight in his expression. “What? Oh, yeah, no, I’m fine. And there’ll be no suing, I promise.”

When the silence seemed to stretch between the three of them, Tony realized he had no reason to be worried about Foster’s assistant; from the little he’d seen, and heard from Thor, the woman was more than capable of taking care of herself. While surprise was thick in her eyes, there was no hint of fear, and that was enough for him. Fingers snapping, Tony nodded at Darcy before starting toward the door. As he passed by Barnes, he couldn’t help the slide of his eyes, locking gazes with the other man for a split second before he pushed through the doors and disappeared from sight.

Bucky could practically feel Stark’s energy as he left, passing by him in a wave and following the engineer. He turned his attention to Darcy, able to read her face like a book. There was shock in her eyes, disbelief that he was in her space, and once again, Bucky marveled at the way she kept all her emotions there in those hazel depths. There was nothing hidden, nothing concealed, just the meteoric truth that she was unable to obscure. Deciding he didn’t want to leave her in perpetual bewilderment, Bucky moved further into the lab, gaze sweeping through the space.

Doing her best to wipe how startled she’d been to find Bucky in her lab, Darcy slipped from her stool again, following his path as he walked between the work tables. “What? I mean, _hi_ , what are you doing here?”

Bucky weaved through the space, taking note of all the expensive looking machines that peppered the space. After his talk with Steve, and the realizations that he’d made after the elevator disaster, Bucky had come to the realization that he’d been drowning, little by little, ever since he’d come back. He’d put on a brave face for Natasha and Steve, but that was all gone now. He’d been reduced to nothing but a vulnerable, scattered mess of a man. Defenseless. A liability. _Exposed_. He could have been hurt. He could have hurt _himself_.

… but neither had happened. He hadn’t _hurt_ anyone, and he hadn’t _been_ hurt. He’d been taken care of. He’d been _comforted_. The terror and fear that had constricted his chest and quickened his breath had been quieted by the woman in front of him. She’d seen him there, susceptible, and she’d gone out of her way to calm him, to tell him that everything was going to be fine. He’d been unable to speak, unable to protect himself, but it didn’t matter, because _she’d_ made sure he was safe. She’d made him _feel_ safe. 

The more he thought about Darcy, the more he realized he’d already let her in. It might have started as surface level acknowledgement, a societal courtesy since they saw each other so frequently, but from the very start, something had been different about her. Though he knew almost nothing about her, she’d become something more for Bucky. He wanted to know more. He wanted more than just three-minute long conversations. He wanted to know _her_.

Like he’d told Steve, he needed to be pushed, he needed to push _himself_ , and he’d already decided his first step. “You always talk about the lab. Figured I’d come see what it’s like for myself.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, not sure why there was a small spark of disappointment stuck in her throat. She swept her arms out, gesturing to the space. “Well, this is it.”

“It looks like something from a sci-fi novel.”

The surprise comfortability in his voice went against everything she’d imagined he’d do. Darcy’d expected space, an awkward distance needed so they didn’t have to talk about him almost breaking down. Or _actually_ breaking down. Was that what had happened in the elevator? Had she seen him break down? If that was the case, then him seeking her out for small talk seemed a bit odd. “Do you like those kinds of novels?”

“Yeah,” Bucky hummed, gray gaze still focused on the machines. “We grew up in the era of Howard Stark. I saw one of his flying cars once.”

Darcy’s lower jaw dropped softly. “Wait, they had _flying cars_ in the 40s? What the shit!”

His thoughts went back to the night he’d spent at Stark Expo, the night before he’d shipped out with the 107th, the last night he’d seen Steve, back when he looked like the pale, skinny, sickly boy he’d fallen in love with. He couldn’t remember the name of the girl he’d been with that night, but the details on Steve’s face as they’d said goodbye were seared into his brain. Bucky shrugged his shoulders, eyes tracing the _Stark Industries_ logo on the side of a particularly fragile looking piece of equipment. “It didn’t really work that well.”

“Ah. Everything we were promised in _The Jetsons_ was a lie. Got it.”

When Darcy went quiet, Bucky turned his attention to her. She was standing next to her table, arms hidden behind her back as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, something he’d realized she did when she was nervous. Yet another emotion she never tried to hide. “Thank you. For what you did for me.”

Darcy’s eyes flicked up at Bucky’s words, heart skipping a beat when she found him looking at her with a serious expression in the storm gray of his eyes. “It’s fine, really. Don’t mention it.”

“But I am,” he said, refusing to look away from her, “mentioning it.”

“Oh, right, sure. I just meant it’s not a problem. I’ve seen other people have panic attacks. I’m just glad I could help.”

“I’m sorry I caused the trouble.”

Darcy took a step closer to him, wanting to wipe the burden she could see weighing on his shoulders. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Anxiety can be a bitch. You don’t have to apologize and it’s _not_ something to be ashamed about. Erik Selvig, I talked about him in the elevator? He went through a rough period and things were a little dicey for a while, but most of it is under control. Maybe yours will be soon, too. I mean, you’re not the first person who’s had to deal with some less than normal reactions to totally normal stimuli, so it’s all good.”

Her rambling was endearing, and Bucky had come to realize it was something he knew she did when she was nervous. He’d only known her a couple of months, but there were things about Darcy Lewis that he _knew_. Perhaps he’d been putting too much importance on the woman standing in front of him, but if it had lead to her being able to talk him back from the edge, then it’d been worth it. “How do you stay so optimistic?”

It was a good question, and Darcy took a beat to think about her answer. She supposed growing up like she had - with a single mother who was devoted to her work as well as her daughter, who told Darcy from an early age that everyone was perfect in different ways, who’d always projected an aura of calmness and strength - might have had something to do with it, but more than that, Darcy didn’t have the _time_ to wallow. It wasn’t how she wanted to live her life, and if that meant she’d been some kind of balm to the man in front of her, then she was glad. “After all the bullshit I’ve seen, it’s either tread water and stay positive, or sink and drown, and I’ve always been a good swimmer.”

“Ah,” Bucky said, watching as her lips curled up at the edges, something in her explanation that seemed to lift her spirits. When he realized he’d been looking at her silently, trying to understand the glint in her eyes, he cleared his throat and reached into his back pocket. “I’m pretty sure this is yours.”

Darcy’s eyes widened in shock, closing the space between them in a matter of seconds, her fingers grabbing the bit of fabric when he helped it out to her. “What?!” She brought the fabric to her face, taking a deep breath before pressing her lips to the letters sewn onto the edge. “Thank you! I didn’t even realize I’d dropped it.”

“It was actually mixed up in my hoodie.” Though he knew the answer, based on how she’d reacted at getting it back, he asked his question anyway. “Is it important to you? Monogrammed handkerchiefs were popular when I was growing up. Not so much now.”

“It was my mom’s,” Darcy breathed, “it was one of the few things that I kept after her accident, so yes, it’s very important to me.” She looked up to him, ignoring the water pooling in her eyes. “Thank you.”

Bucky watched her smooth the handkerchief with her hands. Lovingly. Respectfully. Carefully. Just like she’d done with him. He cleared his throat, watching as those hazel eyes flicked back to him. “I was wondering…”

Something about the way he was looking at her made Darcy’s heart begin to race. “Yeah?”

Realizing how long it had been since he’d done anything remotely like this, he found himself tripping over his words. How did people make friends now? “Did you want to, I mean, _outside_ of the elevator, did you…”

“Yeah?” 

“... want to meet at the coffee shop _before_ we head up here?” Bucky watched her eyes widen, and he rushed to explain himself further. “Leaving the tower isn’t easy for me, and I know the shop is still _in_ the tower, but it’d be a tiny step forward, and since you were able to help me before...”

One-hundred percent surprised, and certain that it read on her face, Darcy’s tongue darted out to lick her dry lips. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a worry of rejection, and some part of her heart broke for the soldier. It was clear what he was doing was hard for him, but that he’d trust her enough to help him again made her chest sing with happiness. 

“But does that mean you’ll have to push your work-out back?” When he rose a dark eyebrow at her, Darcy gestured embarrassingly. “Come on, you’re covered in sweat every morning. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“Right. I can change when I do that. I’ll just move it to later.”

Darcy frowned. From what she could recall, keeping a careful daily program was beneficial to those with anxiety, and the last thing she wanted to do was push him to do something that made him uncomfortable. “Are you sure? I don’t want to mess with your schedule.”

“Seeing you in the morning _is_ my schedule.” The second the words fell from his tongue, he realized how absolutely true they were. He’d had fleeting thoughts about it before, but Bucky was hit with the _accuracy_ of it. He’d come to count on their morning elevator rides, not feeling right when he didn’t see her face at the start of his day. It was silly, considering how very little he knew about her, but he wanted that to change.

Despite his fear of opening himself up to others, he’d found a friend, someone who’d proven they could be trusted, even as he’d been doing everything to lock himself away from the rest of the world. It was honest, and authentic, and Bucky felt a wave of uncertainty rise and crash in his chest the longer she stayed silently blinking at him. “If you don’t want to -”

“ _No!_ ,” Darcy said, covering up the volume of her voice by a soft cough, “No, I mean, I do. I will. Yes.” The twitch of his lips forced her own into a smile, and she tried to elbow past the surprise still pinging through her body. “What time?”

“What time do you head up here?”

“Around 6:30. That’s about when Jane’s mind stops working.”

Bucky nodded. “We could meet downstairs at 5:30? Or is that too early -”

“No, no, definitely not too early. That works. That works for me, for sure.” Darcy was certain her grin had grown, but she couldn’t seem to keep the expression from her face.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“So, tomorrow?”

“5:30. A.M. I’ll be there. With bells on.”

“Great.” He realized he’d been standing there, rooted to the spot as she smiled at him, feeling like time had started to move slower. Urged forward, Bucky nodded at her. “Thank you. Again. For what you did for me.”

“Of course,” Darcy said, chest thumping happily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky repeated, taking another second to feel the warmth in her smile before he turned and made his way out of the lab.

Darcy contained herself until she was sure he was out of earshot. The giddy giggle that left her mouth was embarrassing, but she didn’t care. It had _worked_! The careful progression of friendship had been successful, and now they were meeting for _coffee_! This was leaps and bounds beyond what she’d hoped would happen when she’d made befriending the dour soldier a personal mission, but just like with Janey and Selvig, she’d weaseled her way in. 

“Achievement unlocked!” Darcy threw her arms in the air and executed a spin, brown hair spreading, much like the first time she’d ever laid eyes on James Barnes.

“What achievement did we unlock?”

Turning to see a freshly-slept-and-showered Jane Foster make her way into the lab, Darcy closed the distance between them, grabbing Jane’s hand before lifting it above the scientists head, spinning her once, then again. The laughter that bubbled from Jane at the impromptu dance only made Darcy’s grin widen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay to be sad. There's no shame in crying.  
> Be angry. Scream into a pillow to release the tension.  
> Feel the anxiety biting up and down your arms and acknowledge it for what it is.  
> Do the things that always lift your spirits and don't let anyone tell you you're not worth it.  
> Once you let it out, once you let it float into the void, _that's_ when you can let it go.  
> Choose to focus on the _next_ great thing, because it's only a matter of time.  
> Nothing lasts forever, not even pain. It's all a part of this journey.  
> Windows down, music up. Bump it.  
> 


	17. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Darcy meet for coffee. Steve and Tony have lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> How is it almost July already? Time has been flying!  
> I've worked on a few scenes this week that I _can't wait_ to post, y'all.  
> This is me, wiggling my butt in my chair in excitement.  
> As always, thank you for all the comments/kudos/reblogs/likes!  
>   
> 

_I've been patient_  


_I've been waiting_  


_I've been holding onto promises_  


_I know there are things I've missed_  


_But it's okay_  


_I made choices_  


_And now I'm different than I was before_  


**Patient - Caroline Pennell**

It was still dark when Darcy finally admitted that sleep was something she’d just have to do without. She’d attempted to go to bed early, but she’d failed. She’d failed _hard_. Blinking up at the dark ceiling, she let out a heaving sigh, one of resignation and frustration. Throwing the covers from her legs and climbing to a seated position, her eyes squinted in the darkness as she reached for her phone. “ _Jesus mother fucking ass_ ,” she groaned, shaking her head as she got to her feet. Four in the morning was not a good look for her, and she headed toward the bathroom to rectify the sleep-stolen monster she’d changed into.

Darcy had no problems with mornings. In fact, morning was one of her favorite times of the day. There was always hope in the air. Hope for growth. Hope for change. Hope for a kinder day than the one before. The problem she was currently facing had little to do with the early hour, and more to do with the person she’d be meeting in the coffee shop downstairs. Her early-morning jaunt had been the impetus of her ‘get to sleep at a decent hour’ plan.

Her plan was officially _fucked_.

She’d had grand plans: she was going to wake up early, actually dabble with her ridiculous amount of make-up (that didn’t get used nearly enough), and be bright eyed and bushy tailed when she went downstairs to meet with Bucky. In her current situation, she could do what she’d originally planned, but on less than three hours of real, good sleep. 

_Oh well. Put on red lipstick and maybe no one will notice._

_Except you’re meeting with Bucky Barnes._

_His job is to notice things._

_Fuck._

As she brushed her teeth with vigor, she tried to come up with a list of things they could talk about. The worst case scenario was that they’d sit down at a table and just look at each other  
awkwardly, but if she could prepare then maybe, _just maybe_ , they’d be able to have a normal person conversation. Well, as normal of a conversation as was possible between two people who only knew the bare minimum about each other, yet had shared a rather dark-tinted elevator ride.

Talking about what had happened in the elevator would need to rest on his shoulders, as Darcy would never bring it up on her own. If Bucky wanted to talk about it, then they absolutely could, but he’d have to be the one to take that step, and some part of Darcy doubted it’d be on their conversational agenda.

After showering, choosing an outfit, and putting on her often-ignored lipstick, Darcy still found herself almost an hour ahead of schedule. Puttering around in her room and tidying what she could, she decided there was nothing for it and opted to wait in public. It might have been as dark as midnight outside, but there were little things that pointed to it being morning, namely a line of people waiting for the coffee shop to open at five.

And at the _front_ of that line was someone she recognized. “Freddie!”

“Miss Darcy!” 

The bright smile that was directed her way lit the entire morning, and she laughed as Mike pulled at his leash hard enough that he broke free and ran toward her. She crouched and caught the German Shepherd, somehow managing to stay on her feet and not fall to her ass on the sidewalk. She coo’d at the pup for a few seconds before looking up at Freddie, his smile infectious. “I haven’t seen you guys in a little while. I was starting to worry.”

“No need to worry about us, Miss Darcy, we just had to relocate for a few weeks.”

Straightening, Darcy’s hand absently ran a hand over Mike’s fur as a frown turned her lips. “Something happen?”

“I had a bit of a fall and turned my ankle, and the free clinic near here gets so crowded. We had to move south and get in down there.”

“Are you alright?” Darcy knew it was a silly question, but the man’s friendly nature had endeared himself to her immediately, and the worry in her chest for Freddie was sincere. He’d been the first smile she’d seen each day, and losing that had hit her harder than she thought it would. Regardless of his transient lifestyle, he was a good, caring man, and Darcy found herself reaching out for his hand.

His fingers squeezed hers, the gloves covering his hands the very same ones she’d given him weeks ago. “Like I said, Miss Darcy, we’re doing good now.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Darcy said, darting in to wrap her arms around his shoulders and squeeze him tightly. “It’s just not a good day when I don’t get to see that smile of yours.” When Mike barked and nearly collapsed against her legs, the laugh that bubbled up was bright. “Okay, when I don’t get to see _both_ of your smiles.”

Blinking when the lights above them flipped on, Darcy glanced over and watched an employee begin to weave their way through the tables and toward the front door. She looked back at Freddie with a happy smile before darting in and pressing her lips to his cheek. It was clear she’d caught him off guard, and even in the dark light of the morning, she could make out the happy surprise that lit his dark eyes. “Alright. I’ve got Mike,” she said, holding out her hand for the pup’s leash, “you go in and tell them to add one of the really fancy pastries on your order, okay? My treat, and don’t try to argue with me, because this is my resolve face.”

The man laughed and nodded before making his way inside. Suddenly glad she’d been unable to get to sleep - if it meant being able to catch up with Freddie - she hummed a tune that had been stuck in her head for _weeks_. “ _Ain’t no sunshine hmmmmhmmhmm..._ ” Before long, Freddie was back with his and Mike’s breakfast, and Darcy made him promise to leave a note with the cafe’s employees if he would be gone for an extended time, just so she knew not to worry. 

She was a bit of a worrier when it came to the people she cared about.

When the rest of the people in line behind her made their way to the register, Darcy and her vanilla latte snagged a table by the window. Bucky’d said he wanted to take small steps and sitting next to a window seemed like a small forward movement. She had twenty minutes before he arrived, which was only five minutes more than she’d originally planned on. After getting to catch up with Freddie and Mike, Darcy decided her inability to sleep had turned into a blessing.

She went through emails (both hers and Jane’s), then sent their new equipment requests to Stark, using his super secret email address which he _assured_ her was unhackable. After completing the latest crossword from _The New Yorker_ , she let her thoughts wander, absently doodling on the edge of the newspaper. Every time the door leading to the main Tower opened, Darcy found herself looking up in expectation. When she realized what she was doing, she rolled her eyes at herself. _It’s just coffee. You see him almost every day. Absolutely no reason for the tummy flips. Pull yourself together._

*

When Bucky blinked open his eyes, his first thought was that he hadn’t been torn from sleep by nightmares. In fact, the second his head had hit the pillow, he’d been _out_. He couldn’t remember the last time that’d happened. Possibly not since he and Steve had left Wakanda. Hand reaching out, Bucky brushed his fingers down a sleeping Steve’s side, feeling the blond snuggle closer. Since his confession to Steve two nights ago, the heavy guilt and shame on Bucky’s shoulders had eased slightly. He still had plenty, and he knew he’d never be rid of it completely, but there was a marked difference in its heaviness.

Blinking up at the darkened ceiling, Bucky tried to explain the modicum of peace he’d found in the last forty-eight hours. Unburdening himself to Steve had a lot to do with it, but it wasn’t _just_ that. The time he’d spent stuck in that elevator had been exhausting, and draining, and a million other horrible things, but even with all that darkness, there’d been a pinprick of light.

And that _light_ was going to be meeting him for coffee in less than an hour. It had been a long time since he’d woken up with something to look forward to, and as he thought about Darcy Lewis, he found himself smiling in the darkened room. Bucky had given up on anything bright, resigned to a life of ash and rubble. The thought of making a _friend_ was almost too asinine to consider. Yet, utterly despite himself and the shadows he carried, that’s what Darcy had become. A friend. Someone he could count on for enough brightness to chase back the dark.

When Steve draped an arm across his stomach, Bucky allowed himself a few minutes in the quiet, the muteness like a kind of reprieve. He stayed there, lungs pulling in the sweet smell of Steve’s shampoo, until time caught up with him and he needed to get ready. It felt odd, not going to the gym first thing in the morning, but he reasoned that he just needed to adjust his schedule, not ignore it all together. Now, his day would _start_ with Darcy, and everything else would come after.

Zipping up his hoodie, Bucky stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of the tower, eyes sweeping around the empty space. The guard behind the security desk gave him a soft nod and Bucky returned the gesture, slipping his hands into his pockets. When he turned the corner and saw the warm light from inside the coffee shop, he slowed his steps, taking in the small line of patrons standing near the registers. Somehow knowing she’d already be there, Bucky’s gaze did a quick scan and found Darcy sitting at a table next to a window, the eyes behind her glasses lit with determination as she wrote on the newspaper in front of her.

Just like the first morning he’d met her, dancing by herself in the elevator, Bucky was uncertain what it was about Darcy that made her feel so different. When she looked up and saw him through the window, the smile that lit her face was bright, and though he knew it could be used against him, he found himself returning the expression. The cafe was quiet as he made his way over to her, watching her hands stuff the newspaper back in her bag and out of sight. When he was close enough, Darcy gave him another grin as he came to stand beside the table. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“Huh? No, nah, I’ve only been here a few minutes.” She was caught in her white lie when Bucky’s eyes flicked toward the empty paper cup sitting next to her on the table, one dark eyebrow raising in disbelief. Admitting defeat, she gestured through the air with a hand. “Okay, fine,” she said, “I’ve been here for a little bit, but that’s because of _my_ issues, not yours. I’m chronically early. My mom always said ‘ _If you’re on time, you’re late._ ’”

Bucky didn’t look convinced. “A scientist that’s on time? Wasn’t sure they made them like that.”

“I assure you that they exist, they’re just pretty rare.” When Bucky continued to stand next to the table but didn’t take a seat, the smile on Darcy’s face slipped and she cast an uncertain glance around the space. “Is this table okay? We can move if we need to, I just wasn’t sure...”

Taking a moment, Bucky did another sweep of the cafe. Two of the walls were floor to ceiling windows, but he knew the glass was bullet and shatter proof. He knew the security cameras covered every inch of the space, as it’d been one of the first things he’d suggested to Happy when he and Steve had returned. He was wearing a thigh holster under his sweats, complete with three throwing knives and his favorite Ruger. 

When the anxiety began to creep up his spine, whispering that they were still too exposed, Bucky turned back to Darcy, watching the uncertainty bleed into her expression. Wanting to rid her hazel of any doubt, and reminding himself that he was _supposed_ to be uncomfortable, Bucky slid into the seat across from her. “No, this is fine.”

This time it was Darcy who wasn’t entirely convinced. “Are you _sure_? If we need to -”

“Darcy.”

She couldn’t help the small laugh at the tone in Bucky’s voice when he said her name. She heard it from Jane (though much more frustrated) on a nearly daily basis. “Right, okay. I’ll stop trying to take care of you.”

The snort of laughter was soft, but it was there, and Bucky gave her a shake of his head. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t know how to stop caring about people if you tried.”

A slightly mystified expression took camp on Darcy’s face. “Yeah? How’s that?”

“You take care of your astrophysicist,” he said, earning a grin so bright that he could practically feel the heat of it on his skin, “and then your older friend, and now -”

“And now you too?” His nod was met with another laugh, and Darcy shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “It’s like I said: I’ve been doing it since I followed my mom around her lab, trying to understand what she was talking about.”

Bucky watched her eyes unfocus a bit, able to recognize the ghosts that swam behind her gaze as she thought about her mother. She’d spoken about her before, but Darcy hadn’t divulged the story of what had happened. It was clear it’d had a pretty large effect on her life growing up, and he found himself wondering. “How long ago -”

“When I was ten,” Darcy answered, knowing the question before he finished it, being careful to keep her voice light. “Another driver hit black ice, lost control, and crossed the median. It was instantaneous and they said she didn’t suffer.”

Feeling like he’d tainted their morning, Bucky dipped his head in her direction, tone apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I miss her. A lot,” Darcy said with a bittersweet smile. As it always did, she let the moment and feeling of loss wash over her, the weight on her chest familiar. It would never be _okay_ , but she’d learned to take the pain and turn it into something worthwhile. Her lips slanted when she cast her eyes toward the ceiling, imagining what Abigail Lewis would think about the tower. “She would lose her shit if she could see this place. All these labs and the technology? She’d be like a kid in a candy store.”

Watching Darcy’s lips turn up, despite the rough topic and the enormity of her loss, Bucky watched the normal affable expression return to her face. A smile he could always seem to count on. “She sounds like she was a good person. And she’s responsible for a good person, too.”

Darcy snorted, pushing her glasses up her nose from where they’d slipped down, gaze swinging up to Bucky’s and freezing when she saw the look in his eyes. There was no pretense in his gaze, just the honest truth that he thought she was a good person. Shifting in her seat, Darcy’s tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips. 

She’d never enjoyed being the center of attention, much more comfortable to stay on the sidelines, especially in the world she’d found herself in: a normal human surrounded by geniuses, super heroes, super soldiers, super spies, aliens, and gods. _Adjacent to greatness_ was much more her pace. Using his words to move the spotlight from herself, she put her chin in her palm and gave him a small smile. “What about your family. What did your mom and dad do?”

The question caught Bucky off-guard. Normally he did everything he could to _not_ think about the life and future that had been stolen from him by Hydra, but here was Darcy, with her hazel eyes and authentic interest in his past, and he couldn’t see to find a reason _not_ to. “... it’s been a long time since I really thought about them.”

Feeling a wave of shame crash over her, Darcy sat up straighter at the tone in his voice. The absolute _last_ thing she wanted to do was bring up more dark thoughts. The man had asked for coffee to thank her for what she’d done in the elevator (which she would have done for anyone, and that any decent person should have done in the first place), and now she was bringing up his family, which she could only assume had been dead for some time. “I’m sorry, if you don’t -”

“I lost my mom young, too.” It was clear she hadn’t expected him to answer, and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if it was something he could actually speak about. Because of what she’d already done for him, or the fact that the loss of their parents was something they had in common, Bucky’s words came slowly but clearly. “She got real sick and just couldn’t shake it. My dad died while I was at Camp Lehigh. Parachute accident. My sister was put into boarding school while I was overseas. She…”

Bucky’d spent so long running from his past that it hadn’t seemed right to discover what had happened to his sister. If he didn’t know, he’d have no guilt over what he’d had no control over. One low night, though, he’d found himself looking for the truth online, paralyzed with both hope and fear. “She married a good man and they relocated to the midwest. St. Louis, I think. She had three children. She died in 2010, but it looks like she had a really good life.”

Darcy was able to pick out the pride and relief in his voice, but it did little to squelch the guilt at bringing up a touchy subject. _Fuck. You brought up his dead family? Why? How? What is your damage, Lewis?!_ Trying to save face, she gave him a soft smile. “What was her name?”

“Bekah. Well, Rebekah, but none of us called her that. Not even Steve.” Bucky looked down at the tabletop, tracing a gouge in the wood with his eyes as he thought about his little sister and all the trouble they gotten into growing up. “It’s been a while since I thought about any of them.”

Again, Darcy’s stomach flipped with contrition. “I’m sorry.” On instinct, she lifted her hand and placed it over Bucky’s on the table, trying to give him comfort from the melancholy that her question had brought.

“No, no reason to be sorry. When I let myself, I miss them.” The words had fallen out before he’d had a chance to stop them, and the stab of vulnerability which usually enveloped him was kept at bay by the warmth of her skin against his. Normally he’d have pulled his hand back, not wanting to show any kind of weakness, but with Darcy, he’d found he could be exposed without the fear of reprisal or punishment.

For some reason, one of the first memories that jumped to the forefront of his mind was an early Christmas. His family had never been made of money, even though his mother and father worked themselves to the bone to provide for him and his sister, but what they lacked in money they made up for with love. He recalled his mother hanging homemade ornaments on what had to have been the skinniest Christmas tree in the world, and the warble sounds as his father and sister sang carols at the frost covered windows.

His lips twitched upward, almost able to smell his mother’s roast in the oven. When he looked back up Darcy, she was blinking at him with an earnest smile on her face. She wasn’t pushing, letting him take however long he needed to pull himself back. Like she’d wait there forever for him to be ready to talk again. Feeling warmth spread through his chest, he nodded his head at her. “What about you? Any siblings?”

“Other than Janey? Nope. Single child.” Darcy shrugged her shoulder. “I always liked the idea of having a big brother. It might have helped after mom’s accident. But it was probably a good thing I was alone. Made it easier for my aunt to take care of me.”

He hadn’t seen them together, but it was obvious that Darcy thought about the astrophysicist as family. He tried to imagine Darcy only taking care of one person at a time, and he wasn’t sure it was possible. “Where’s your aunt now?”

“Oh, she’s gone too. Heart attack my freshman year of college.”

It was like anything they spoke about was surrounded by ash. Feeling like he should have known a happy conversation was beyond his current abilities, Bucky exhaled softly and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Patting his hand twice before pulling her back, Darcy cocked her head to the side, hazel gaze behind her glasses sparking. “Have you noticed we’ve been saying that a lot during this conversation? About how sorry we are for bringing up dark thoughts? How about we stop apologizing for the hard stuff we couldn’t control, and start talking about the good stuff.” When he raised one of those dark eyebrows at her, Darcy leaned forward to put her chin in her palm, the grin on her face going crooked. “What’s one good thing that’s happened since the last time we saw each other?”

Bucky frowned. “...you mean since yesterday?”

“Yep,” Darcy said, popping the ‘p’, “one good thing in the last twenty-four hours.” When he continued to look at her with uncertainty, she sat up again with a nod. “Okay, I’ll go first. Um… oh! I accidentally put a pair of red socks in the washer with my whites, but nothing bled, so _yay_!” She punctuated her announcement with a rousing shake of her fingers in a odd-looking jazz-hand type gesture.

He couldn’t help the dumbfounded look at her revelation. “Your good thing is about laundry?”

“Hey, laundry is the worst, so when something _good_ happens with it, it tends to stick in my mind, okay?” He seemed to take her words as answer enough, his lips slanting at her explanation, and she felt buoyed by almost making him smile. “Now you. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, it can be something little.”

Having to think about it, Bucky took several seconds to come up with something that would work. Darcy was quiet, giving him time, and though he wasn’t sure it’d count, he decided to say it anyway. “Uh, I put a hole in my favorite punching back, but we got new ones in yesterday.”

The incredulous look on Darcy’s face was only accentuated by her the roundness of her eyes, and she held up a finger in his direction. “One? You have a favorite punching bag? That is fucking adorable.” His reaction to her calling him adorable was _even more adorable_ , but she decided to let that lie and hold up another finger. “Two? _You busted a punching bag_?!”

Charmed by the expressive nature she seemed to carry in spades, Bucky shrugged one of his shoulders. “Steve and I actually go through a lot of them.”

Mind blown by the fact, though they were _super soldiers_ and it made perfect sense that their strength would be a little more than Everlast has had to deal with in the past, Darcy tried to follow the line of thought as it began racing through her head. “I wonder if Stark has that on a spreadsheet somewhere.” She straightened again, face screwing up in a close approximation of the billionaire engineer. “ _Freaking super soldiers. That’s the eighth bag this month. I’m docking it from their pay._ ”

The uncanny way she’d imitated Stark was disconcerting. “That was kind of terrifying.”

“I have a gift.” Her answer seemed to settle the matter, and Darcy let the quiet hang in the air for a little while, gaze watching Bucky as the storm gray of his eyes followed bodies on the other side of the window, the first blush of light rising in the east. “How are you? Really?” When his focus swung back toward her, she could tell _something_ was different. “I know I haven’t known you for very long, and I don’t have anything to base it on, but I think you look better. Do you _feel_ better?”

There was something about Darcy Lewis that Bucky just couldn’t put his finger on. There was a careful thread of worry in her hazel eyes, and for the life of him, he just wasn’t sure how to accept it so easily. He wasn’t sure why she was so quick to include him in the circle of people she worried about, but regardless, he was filled with gratitude. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to get through his panic without her.

The smile he gave her was hesitant, but honest. “I’m doing better.”

She could taste the truth in his words, at least the truth of them today, and for Darcy, that was enough. “Good.”

Steve lifted his shoulders against the cold wind as they exited the building, the brick around them doing little to cut through the icy air that had blanketed New York. He lifted his ungloved hands and blew into them before looking to the man on his right. “That went better than I thought it would.”

Eyes rolling, Tony started down the steps toward the car they’d taken to the World Council headquarters in Manhattan. “I told you that they want to work _with_ you, not against you. Believe it or not, some people _don’t_ want to fight you.”

Glad his dark sunglasses meant Tony didn’t see the flash of guilt, Steve glanced over at the smaller man. “I know that, Tony.”

Tony shook his head. “See, you _say_ that, but I’m not so sure. Those people in there?” He threw a thumb over his shoulder at the building they’d just left. “Those people in there are just trying to do right by their countries. They’ve got lives on the line. You can’t just ignore them and their concerns.”

“I’m _not_ trying to ignore them. I heard what they were saying. I get it. Things are better.” Steve still felt like the man at his side didn’t believe he genuinely was grateful for the way he’d navigated the political aspect of their return. If it hadn’t been for Tony, he and Bucky would still be fugitives in a foreign land. He wasn’t sure how to convey how he felt he owed a debt that could never be repaid. “You’ve done a good job.”

The words from Steve’s mouth were surprising, and Tony couldn’t help but swing his gaze toward the blond. Even though Steve was wearing glasses, he was able to see some tension in the way the soldier was holding his jaw. Letting out a soft sigh, Tony glanced up and down the street before looking back to Steve. “You hungry?”

Letting out a soft huff of laughter, Steve shrugged his shoulders. His increased metabolism meant he could _literally_ eat whenever, and he’d never been known to turn down a meal with a friend. “I could eat.”

Twenty minutes later, they were patiently waiting for a table to open up at what looked to be a family owned and run restaurant. If anybody recognized the pair, they were humble and didn’t approach; it wasn’t often Steve could venture in public and not be interrupted for a photo or autograph, and for once he was _grateful_ that Tony was with him, as the genius engineer was more than happy to rub elbows so Steve could stay in the background, giving him an air of anonymity.

Steve watched Tony greet the owner with a large smile and a handshake, carrying on a small conversation before the man grabbed two menus and led them to a table in the back, out of direct eyesight of the windows. It wouldn’t be long before people realized Tony Stark was eating lunch, as he’d left his favorite new flashy sports car parked out front, but hopefully they’d get their entrees before they were hounded. “You’ve been here before?” When Tony raised an eyebrow, Steve gestured toward the front of the restaurant. “It just seems like you knew the owner.”

“No,” Tony said, shaking his head and unwrapping the paper napkin from around his silverware, “but the owner’s name was in the article on the wall near the front door. It said he raised a lot of money for local first responders after the Chitauri attack. Man like that deserves a friendly handshake.”

Steve watched Tony smooth out his napkin and arrange the flatware, the eyes behind the blue frames of the engineer’s glasses sweeping around the interior. He knew talking about the attack on New York wasn’t particularly easy for Tony, but it appeared the man had started to flinch less when it was brought up. When Tony’s hands smoothed the napkin one more time, Steve shifted in his seat, Tony’s whiskey-brown eyes darting up. “You’ve done a lot for this city, too.”

“This isn’t about me.” When the soldier sitting across from him lifted an eyebrow, Tony rolled his eyes at him. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Didn’t say I knew what you were _saying_ , but that I knew what you were _thinking_. I might be flashy and beat my chest like a silverback, but it’s men like Miguel here,” Tony said, sitting back in his seat when the restaurant owner returned to their table with drinks, “that deserve the praise.” He clapped Miguel on the back, earning a grin from the older man, before turning back to Steve.

Blue gaze following after the owner, Steve’s chest was filled with dual emotions. It was hard to think back on the Chitauri attack and see anything but horror, but light was there if you looked hard enough. It was there in the first responders. And in the people who donated blood, or time, or supplies. It was there in the scholarship funds that had been offered to the children of those who died. Out of all that darkness, the fact that good things had taken root lifted Steve’s spirits. But, on the heels of that thought, was the whisper in the back of his mind saying he hadn’t given enough. “I just wish we could do more to help.”

Tony took a drink of his iced tea, tongue clicking before he set it down and leaned back in his chair. “We can. We know the next threat on the horizon, and we have the chance to stop it before it arrives. We can stave off a _war_ , but only if we prepare, if we shore up every chink in our armor.”

Feeling a blush of a memory, Steve nodded at Tony “You said you saw a suit of armor around the world.”

“A net of protection,” Tony explained, “something that tells the rest of the universe that this planet and the people that live on it aren’t something to be messed with. That we’re a force to be reckoned with.”

Letting out a soft sigh, Steve rested his elbows on the table, blinking at Tony as he frowned. “That sounds more like a threat.”

“It’s not a threat if we _mean_ it.”

“What Strange saw -”

“ _Steve_.” Tony waited until the other man went quiet, until Steve’s cornflower eyes focused and remained on him. “Ever since I came out of that cave, I’ve been trying to protect myself and the people I love. I’m pretty sure you put that plane in the ice to do the same thing. We can fight and argue, seeing how much we like it,” Tony said, smirk going slanted when Steve laughed softly and nodded his head, “but in the end, unless we work together, the only thing we’ll be protecting will be the ashes of a world that wasn’t bigger than our egos.”

Steve’s gaze stayed on Tony’s, searching the other man’s eyes for the hubris that was so familiar, but he saw none. The hint of fear in Tony’s expression was real, and Steve was able to admit the fear was something they shared. Reaching for his water, Steve gave Tony a small toast with his glass. “That was kind of poetic. Sounded like something your dad would have said.”

The snort that issued from Tony was heartfelt. “ _Pfft_ , come on, that was Aunt Peg through and through.” Tony watched Steve’s eyes dim a bit before he pointed them to the tabletop. The soldier’s lips lifted in a wistful smile, a little pain in his expression, and it wasn’t hard to interpret why thinking about Margaret Carter was bittersweet. “She was happy, Steve.” When the man looked up at him, Tony’s gaze was weighted with honesty. “Daniel was a good man. They had a good life.”

There was no flippancy in Tony’s tone, none of the usual cocky or glib expression in his eyes, and Steve felt the heaviness settle around his shoulders. The same ache returned in his chest, the one he could feel whenever he allowed himself to think of everything he’d lost when he went into that ice.

He didn’t know how to explain the duality. The pain he felt when he thought of the life he might have had with Peggy was dull, like a knife, like a glimpse of a future he’d never get to have. But if he _hadn’t_ put the plane in the ice, the loss of life would have been too large to imagine. He’d saved so many people, but he’d been unable to protect his own heart. Getting Bucky back felt like a miracle, and when Steve allowed himself to think about what might of been, he found himself grateful. Peggy’d found love, had a family, built the future, and left a legacy that outlived her. If he could do that with Bucky - love, have a family, build their future - then maybe his sacrifice had been worth it.

“I know,” Steve said, giving Tony a small smile when he looked back up at the man. “What I could bring myself to read about, I mean. It was good. I’m glad she made the most of her life.”

“You gave her that.” Steve kept his eyes pointed down at the table, but Tony carried on anyway. “Imagine what would have happened if you’d tried to solve the problem any other way. You fell on the grenade so everyone else could be safe.” Tony didn’t flinch when Steve looked up at him sharply, something in the soldier’s gaze he couldn’t place. “You saved a lot of people, Cap.”

Though he’d said ‘Cap’ in a breezy way, Steve could tell Tony meant what he was saying. It had been quite some time since he’d been able to look at Tony and not see guilt, but little by little, things were getting better. It was like Tony had said: they needed to get to know each other if they had any hope to weather the coming storm. “You did the same thing with that nuke, Tony.” When Tony shifted in his seat, eyes darting away, Steve let the companionable silence hang around them, giving Tony the time he needed before he was ready to push his nightmares aside.

Tony sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he tipped his chair back on two legs, balancing by the tips of his toes. “I think we’ve done enough stroking of our prides. How about we eat and talk about other things. Better things.”

Grinning, Steve raised an eyebrow. “I take it you have a topic in mind?”

Like he’d just been waiting for the opportunity, Tony let his chair fall to the floor as he snapped and leaned forward. “As a matter of fact, I do. Did you see the flyer in the elevator? Someone wants to start a movie night. You think it was Barton?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter that will post in June, so as this Pride Month ends, just remember:  
> You are _valid_.  
> You are _strong_.  
> You are worth more than what you know.  
> The hatred they spew is toxic. Don't buy into their lies.  
>  _You_ are the only one who gets to choose what you do and do not subscribe to.  
> Your smile is gleaming.  
> Your heart is so full.  
> I can see your shine all the way from here, and do you have a pair of sunglasses I can borrow, because  
>  _daaaaaamn_ are you bright!  
> Eyes and chin up. Demand the world give you the space you deserve.  
> Happy Pride!!


	18. Bury It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Jane have a few visitors pop into their lab. Bucky and Darcy continue their early morning meet-ups.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> July. How is it already July?!? WHAT IS TIME?!?  
> I know you're all eagerly awaiting the trio coming together in the same place, and I _promise_ it's on its way!  
> As is stands right now, it'll be posting on the fifteenth!  
> I promise I'm just as anxious as the rest of you!  
> *Bites Fingernails*  
> As always, thank you for all the comments/kudos/reblogs/likes! They lift my spirit on a down day!  
>   
> 

_Cover up, cover up, cover up that you're ruthless.**_  
_Nobody, nobody, nobody's ever gonna notice._  
_And I am catchin' up and I am seein' red._  
_How about I prove I'm right and raise it overhead?_

“ **We need more power!** ”

“ **Are you sure? I don’t want to kill you!** ”

“ **Just do it Darcy!** ”

“ **Here goes nothing!** ” Face taking on an expression of uncertainty, Darcy lifted her arm. Before she actually pressed the button, she put a hand over her eyes and peeked out from between her fingers. The machine whirred to life, almost loud enough to drown out the sound of synthesizing and vocals that were streaming out of the speaker.

  
_I never promised you anything I couldn't do._  
_We tried to bury it and rise above, bury it and rise above._  
_You, you, you never promised me you were seeing differently._  
_Bury it and rise above, bury it and rise above._

Darcy took a step back, her eyebrows rising in surprise. When she caught Jane looking over at her, she shot a thumbs up toward the astrophysicist. Their astonishment was short lived, however, when there was a pop and then a sizzle as something inside the analyzer fried. Letting out a small yelp, Darcy jumped back when a spark and embers shot out from the vents on the side of the machine. “ **WE SET IT ON FIRE AGAIN!** ”

_Reaching, reaching for, reaching for my resistance._  
_Nobody, nobody, nobody sees it at a distance._  
_And I am catchin' up and I am seein' red._  
_How about I throw my weight and raise it overhead?_  


Jane flipped the machine’s power switch, but the smell of smoking electrical equipment hung heavy in the air. In her peripheral vision, Jane saw Darcy make a run for the fire extinguisher that they’d started leaving nearby. Just in case. Except ‘just in case’ happened a lot more than they would have liked. “ **No! We can’t ruin another giant piece of equipment!** ” 

“ **They knew what they were getting into when they hired us!** ”

“ **DARCY!** ”

_I never promised you anything I couldn't do._  
_We tried to bury it and rise above, bury it and rise above._  
_You, you, you never promised me you were seeing differently._  
_Bury it and rise abov -_

When the music suddenly went silent, both girls turned toward the speaker at the same time; both of Jane’s hands were in her hair, tangled in frustration, while the fire extinguisher in Darcy’s hands felt far more familiar than she wanted to admit. The shock of seeing Bruce Banner in their lab, _especially_ when they’d just gotten done frying _another_ analyzer, seemed to have struck them both with a case of ‘The Dumb.’ Jane recovered first, though being star-struck by your science crush wasn’t a good look either. 

“Dr. Banner? Wh-what, I mean, what are you doing here?”

The size of Darcy’s grin was astronomical. She’d spent countless nights getting tipsy on cheap rum and pineapple juice, while listening to Jane wax philosophical about Dr. Bruce Banner and how _extra special_ he was. Did Darcy know how many PhD’s the man had? (No, but she’d been informed he had seven.) Did she know about his groundbreaking work in gamma radiation? (Not really, except that an accident with that radiation is what had given him his ‘special powers,’ though Darcy didn’t think it was something the scientist had signed up for.) Janey fangirling over Bruce Banner was adorable, and the happiness beat heavily in Darcy’s chest.

“I was, uh, invited.”

When Jane’s doe eyes swung over at her, Darcy let the fire extinguisher hang in her hands, an expression of confusion on her face. When she remembered the elevator conversation she’d had with the scientist, her face lit up in recognition. “Oh shit, fuck, that’s right! I invited you. Fucking took you long enough.”

“I’ve been a bit busy with my, uh, over duties.”

“What, you think Avenger-related emergencies take precedent?” When Bruce gave her an uncertain glance, Darcy set the fire extinguisher down and gave him a good natured eye roll. “I’m just fucking with you, Doc. Come in, come in! Jane can show you what she’s been working on.”

“What _we’ve_ been working on,” Jane corrected, earning a beaming smile from Darcy.

Bruce wandered further into the lab, giving special attention to the whiteboard that was currently covered in purple scribbles. After a moment of looking at it, he took a step back. “You’re tracking something?”

“Something big,” Jane said with a nod, a thoughtful expression filling her features, “something powerful.”

“Something fucking _awesome_ ,” Darcy corrected, holding a bottle of water out toward Bruce.

Bruce took the offered bottle, but it was clear his attention had already been piqued by the violet in front of him. “What kind of radiation are you looking for?”

“At first, it was just gamma radiation -”

“Which you _might_ be familiar with,” Darcy interrupted, earning an unimpressed glare from Jane, and a soft grin from Bruce.

“- but now I’m not so sure. We’re picking up X-rays, and ultraviolet, and gravitational shifts.”

“So, something that can _manipulate_ radiation.”

“Something big.”

Darcy watched some kind of recognition light Bruce’s eyes before he removed the glasses from his face, casting a glance down at the floor. She’d become a pretty good judge of scientists’ expressions over the decades she’d been surrounded by them. _Something_ on the board and in Jane’s explanation had sparked in his head, and she watched as he weighed its importance.

“How close are you?”

Jane’s frustrated frown deepened. “Uhm, I’m not sure. We tried to increase the ability of the telescopes, but we kind of broke -”

“She means **I** kind of broke the machine,” Darcy said, throwing herself on the metaphorical grenade. The last thing she wanted to witness was her best friend doing something wrong in the presence of her science god.

“Oh.” Bruce pushed his glasses back on, glancing in both of their directions. “We’ll get you a new one.”

Darcy’s eyebrows raised toward her hairline. “... this is our fourth.”

“That’s why I let Tony worry about the money.” Bruce ignored the huff of laughter that erupted from Darcy as his words. “The next time you’re ready for a full scale test, I’d love to be here to see it.”

The look of pure elation on Jane’s face forced Darcy to look away, else she’d have died laughing.

“Really? I mean, yeah, that’d be awesome.”

_Fan-girling Janey is the Best. Thing. Ever._

“Thanks for letting me take a look.”

Jane darted forward when Bruce started toward the doors. “Of course! You’re welcome any time. Seriously, you can come back. Any time.”

Saving Jane from devolving into a puddle of brain boner goo, Darcy moved so she could wrap her arm in Bruce’s, escorting him toward the double doors. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about our movie idea. I put a flyer in the elevator but haven’t gotten any commitments yet. Just some anonymous emails suggesting we watch _Spaceballs_? I expect foul play.” The soft snort of laughter from Bruce made her smile widen, as did the appalled look Jane pointed her way.

“I’ll do that.”

Darcy let out a sigh as Bruce slipped through the double doors, crossing her arms over her chest with satisfaction.

“Movie night?”

Darcy ignored Jane’s question entirely, turning toward her best friend with a wide smile. “You know, you’re pretty adorable when you come face to face with your biggest science crush.”

“I’m not -”

“Jane Amelia Foster, you have a science boner for that man.”

“How can you turn _anything_ into a sex joke?”

“Talent.”

When he stepped off the elevator, Bucky felt better than he had in a long time. After admitting to Steve that he needed help, the pair of them had been looking at therapists that specialized in post-traumatic stress disorder. But it wasn’t _just_ PTSD that they had to contend with; in addition to his PTSD, Bucky was a victim of being held in captivity, addicted to drugs to keep him in line, and tortured without a second thought. It was like a cluster of trauma, but there had been a few possibilities.

It was made infinitely harder by the fact that most of their work required a certain amount of security clearance, and finding someone with everything they required was taking longer than he thought it would. He still felt guilt at letting it get so bad, but there was finally a light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel, and the simple fact that he was working _toward_ something made everything else a little less sharp. His days were also made softer by the woman he was going to meet.

As he passed the security guard posted at the front desk, she gave Bucky a nod of her head, and he returned the gesture. Now that he was traveling outside of the gym, security offices, and the upper levels, he found himself recognizing the people that he passed each morning. From the security guards to the baristas behind the counter of the café, little by little, Bucky was starting to feel like normal. Well, more ‘normal’ than he would have thought possible, given his history.

The glow of the café was warm, and when he spotted a shock of dark hair sitting next to one of the windows, a smile lifted his lips. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, but with the cold came the seemingly unending collection of hats that Darcy produced. It was one of the first things he remembered noticing about her – the little poof on the top of her head as she spun in the elevator – and just _seeing_ the hat settled the nerves in his stomach. He weaved through the tables, ignoring the gazes that swung in his direction, though he continued to feel their eyes on him. As he came closer, Darcy’s hazel eyes lifted and the smile on her face was bright enough to light the morning. “How are you always here before me?”

Darcy pushed a mug in his direction, having memorized his usual drink the second day they’d met. It was better having it ready, because she enjoyed spending time with Bucky, and ordering before he got there meant they were able to spend _more_ time together. “I’m up before my alarm most days,” she said with a shrug.

“When we were younger, Steve had to practically drag me out of bed.” Bucky watched Darcy’s eyes drop toward the table, not sure what he’d said that made the expression on her face change from the smile that’d been there seconds before.

“I’m sure he didn’t mind.” Every time Bucky mentioned something about Steve, Darcy’s stomach flipped. There had to have been some intervention from the gods, as she’d lived in the tower for about three months now, but had managed to avoid running into him. Maybe it was because they didn’t frequent the same places at the same times, or maybe it was just the hand of fate pushing her in a different direction. If Bucky and Steve lived on the same floor, yet she hadn’t come up as a topic of conversation, she had to figure it was for a reason. It was entirely possible that their morning meetings weren’t worth saying anything about. Just two coworkers, sharing a little time before their days started. Not a big deal.

“Basic training fixed that pretty quickly,” he continued, “but now that we’re home, I guess I could sleep in if I wanted to.” _But then I wouldn’t get to see you, and your hats, and your smiles._

“I never had enough time to sleep in. I had a full time job when I was a full time student. After Aunt Adrienne died, keeping my scholarship was the most important thing, or I’d have to leave school. I was either at work, in class, or doing homework.”

What she was saying was impressive, but even more than that, was how she said it with a smile. Darcy was telling a story that might have turned someone sour or angry, but instead, she was talking about it with grace, and a positive attitude. He leaned on the table with his elbows, shaking his head. “That sounds really hard.”

Darcy laughed, taking another drink of her steadily cooling coffee. “I’ve never shirked away from hard work.”

“And Dr. Foster? That hard work?”

“It’s like second nature, and hardly feels like a job. I get to hang out with my best friend on a daily basis and watch as she completely takes science by storm. It’s not a job. It’s a dream.”

Bucky nodded, one corner of his mouth turning up. “That’s pretty much what it’s like with Steve. At least, when we’re not fighting for our lives.” Again, at the mention of Steve, Darcy seemed to shift in her seat. He knew ‘Captain America’ could be completely intimidating to some people, but he’d never pegged Darcy as the kind to let things like that bother her. After all, she’d been mostly unfazed by _him_ , and there was far more out there to dislike about his past when compared with Steve’s. Deciding to let the question drop, Bucky nodded in her direction. “So explain how all that means you’re up early?”

Straightening from her slumped posture, she watched Bucky take a sip from his mug, grey eyes blinking at her over the rim, waiting for her answer. “Because I’ve got this science nerd thing down to a science, pun obviously intended.” The soft snort she got in response made her smile brighten. “Jane’s brain is wired a little differently. She works very late into the night, and you might think it’s because that’s when the stars are out, but you’d be wrong. Her circadian rhythm is different than most people’s. She stays up and does her thing, then I come in early, force her into an actual bed, and make sure she gets at least four hours of good rest a night.”

His eyebrows knit together. “What do you do when she’s sleeping?”

“I analyze her scribblings from the night before. Half of it never makes sense. Well, doesn’t make sense to _me_ , anyway.”

“Okay, so if she’s up late and you’re up early, when do _you_ sleep?”

There was a soft thread of concern in his voice, and Darcy couldn’t help the flip of her stomach. “In shifts, mostly. I’m usually up at 5:30. I get ready, am down here around 6:00, and head up there at 6:30. I toss her into bed then go back to the lab. I work while Jane’s asleep. When she’s vertical again, we go over things. When she gets back into her science groove, I’ll take a couple hours to doze on the couch. Then it’s dinner, checking on her again, then I’m in bed by 10:00 or 11:00. Next day I wake up and do it all over again.”

Her schedule sounded more chaotic than he thought it’d be, and though he had troubles sleeping himself, he couldn’t help the worry that she wasn’t getting enough rest herself. “And here I am, making you get up even earlier.”

“Hey,” Darcy said, sternness bleeding into her voice, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. And I do,” she clarified, in case he didn’t catch it, “want to be here. With you.” For the first time, Darcy watched real light spark in his eyes, the grin he pointed in her direction nearly knocking her off her feet. He was so handsome when there wasn’t darkness in his expression, charming when he forgot to be tortured, and it wasn’t hard to see why all the old newsreels spoke to his charisma. It was there, buried underneath all the heaviness on his shoulders, and Darcy wished there was something she could do to chase away some of the black. “And what do you have on your schedule today, sir? Anything fun?”

Bucky finished what was in his mug. “I’ll go upstairs, hit the gym for a couple hours –“

“ _A couple hours?!_ ”

Eyebrows lifting, Bucky watched several eyes turn in their direction at the volume of her voice. “Yeah.”

“But, I mean, you super soldiers are jacked. You still have to work out?”

“... you might know less about super soldiers than you think you do,” Bucky responded, though he hated the term ‘super’ being used for him in any way, shape, or form.

The giggle that broke free from Darcy was heartfelt. “Obviously.”

When she nodded at him, waving her hand as an apology for interrupting (though Bucky didn’t mind), he continued. “After that I sit down the Steve and security, go over things, make sure we’re staying up to date on training and drills. We’re working to narrow down the view of the cameras and make it so there’s no holes.”

“And the elevator power freezing? Any ideas what or who caused it?”

Bucky shook his head, lips turning down. He didn’t like that something he’d experienced was not something he’d be correcting. Steve had told him that Tony was on top of it, but it did little to ease Bucky’s fears that this was only the beginning. “Stark’s working on it.”

Darcy quirked a dark eyebrow at him. “But aren’t _you_ supposed to be looking into security threats?”

Shifting in his seat, stretching his leg and resting it on the rung of Darcy’s chair, Bucky tried not to let his unhappiness at the situation bleed into his tone. “He’s got someone special. A younger engineer. He’s taken the guy under his wing, I guess. They’re working on it together.”

“ _Hrmmmm_ ,” Darcy hummed, “I guess that makes sense. He seemed pretty embarrassed about the whole thing when he stopped by the lab.”

“Does he do that often? Drop in on you?”

She shook her head. “There’ve been exactly two times that he’s been in our lab, and one of those you were witness to.”

“And Banner?” This time, Bucky watched Darcy’s eyes light up with amusement, transforming her entire expression, and he found himself unable to do anything but return the grin.

“He’s been stopping by pretty frequently, actually, which is _hilarious_ , because Jane turns into a fucking thirteen-year-old when he’s there. He’s, like, her fucking _hero_. It’s adorable.” Very few things in life filled Darcy with as much joy as when she watched her best friend tripping over herself because she couldn’t contain her brain boner.

“But isn’t she with Thor?”

Darcy waved a hand in his direction, a rueful smile turning her lips. “Oh, for sure. She’s ass-over-tit for that man, and the feeling is mutual. Her thing with Bruce... did you ever grow up idolozing someone and thinking they could do no wrong?”

Bucky knew _exactly_ what that felt like. He’d felt that way about Steve since the first day they’d met in the dirty Brooklyn streets. The tiny blond was trying to protect a girl who’d been pushed to the ground and spit on, just because of the color of her skin. He’d thought the righteous fury in Steve’s cornflower blue eyes was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he’d been addicted to that cerulean ever since. “I’m familiar with the concept.”

“Well, that’s what it’s like for her. Bruce is her science idol. The fact that they’re working together is everything to that little spitfire scientist of mine.”

Watching the happy smile curl her lips, Bucky realized he wanted to linger, to sit at the table and learn as much about Darcy as he could. She was engaging, and enthralling, and the _life_ that she oozed felt like the sun on his cheeks, warm and complete. Movement in his peripheral vision forced his eyes away from her lips, and he glanced up as he realized there were a lot more people in the café than normal. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him why. “We’re late.”

Eyebrows furrowing, she looked over her shoulder at where he was looking. She couldn’t believe that they’d been talking for almost two hours, but a quick check of her phone confirmed. “Fuck! You’re right!”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize –“

“It’s not your fault, Buck.”

The easy way the nickname had fallen from her lips made Bucky pause, and he let it grow quiet as he watched her put her things away. Her words had been happy, said with familiarity and comfortability, and he couldn’t help but wonder when exactly they’d reached that point. It could have been in the elevator, when she’d seen him falling apart and did everything she could to keep him together. It could have been the first morning they shared her headphones and her songs.

 _Or_ , it could have been the first morning he’d met her down here, willing to have coffee with a shadow of a man with a black past that had a history of pain and torture, ignoring all the red flags that would have shown he was not a good guy to be friends with. But that’s what they were, right? Friends, despite everything she’d seen. “Not my fault, I know, but I’m still sor -”

“Hey!” Darcy stopped moving, reaching out to grab his hand in hers, giving him her best resolve face. “What did we say? We said we were going to stop apologizing, remember?”

The fingers wrapped around his were warm, and soft, and when he took in a deep breath, he was able to catch a hint of vanilla on her skin. Darcy was giving him what he’d come to understand was her ‘listen to me or else’ face, and Bucky couldn’t find the strength to argue with someone so certain. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Good.” Squeezing his hand again before letting it drop, she threw her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“I’ll be here.”

  


When she heard the doors to the lab push open, Darcy kept her eyes on her laptop screen, a look of frustration on her face. She _could not_ figure out how to upload the latest batch of data without reformating and it was _driving her nuts_. When she heard Jane’s footsteps right behind her, she let out a large, heavy sigh before spinning in her chair. “Hey, Janey, could you -”

Darcy’s eyes widened when she came face-to-face with two people who were _very much_ not her best friend. “Holy shit,” she gasped, sliding to her feet in surprise. “Hi. Hello. You’re Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton.”

Clint lifted his drink in the air and saluted her with it. “We are indeed.”

“And you’re here. In the lab.” Darcy’s eyes darted around the space, hearing Stark’s voice in her ear, making it _absolutely clear_ that their work in the lab was on a severe ‘need-to-know’ basis. Yet here were two strangers amongst all their machines and data. Yes, they were _Avengers_ , but she wasn’t sure that mattered.

“We came for a little looksee,” Clint said, following after Natasha as she moved further into the lab. Darcy followed after them, a slightly worried expression taking residence on her face.

“Uh, yeah, I mean, it’s supposed to be secr -”

“What do you do up here?”

Natasha clicked her tongue, emerald-gaze swinging over toward Clint, her tone chastising while her eyes flashed with amusement. “Clint, you can’t just ask -”

“Why not? If they’re up here, it means they’ve already been cleared. Avengers-Related up this high, remember?”

“I’d love to tell you what, but we’ve been sworn to secrecy. And if I told you, I could get sued. Not that they’d _get_ anything from me. They only thing I’m rolling in is science.” Darcy couldn’t help the smile when Barton looked over at her with a smirk. She’d never met the archer or the super-spy-assassin, but she’d seen plenty of them on TV and read about them in the news. They were, like, SHIELD Royalty. “Can I get either of you a wat -”

Natasha stood in front of the whiteboard, arms crossed over her chest as she regarded the gibberish. “You’re tracking an energy source throughout the galaxy?”

Darcy and Clint’s eyes widened dramatically, and though they’d never met before, the pair took a step closer to the other. “Is she a _scientist_ agent?”

“Nope, but she’s brilliant as all hell.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at the pair when she turned to face them. “It’s not hard if you understand radiation spikes.”

Clint had brought his drink back to his mouth, chewing on the straw, but pulled it from his face with a gasp. “Chernobyl!”

Darcy shook her head. “That was in the Ukraine.”

Clint shrugged his shoulders. “Close enough.”

Feeling out of her depth, but amused, Darcy watched the agents share a smile then turn back to look at her. “Um, was there something I could -”

“Mermaid.” It was clear the word did very little to explain enough, and Clint leaned back against one of the work tables. When Darcy continued to blink at him in confusion, he continued. “Stark said to talk to you about mermaids.”

The amount of ‘lost’ Darcy felt was overwhelming. She searched her brain, trying to remember a time when she’d discussed mythological sea creatures with the billionaire engineer, but came up empty. “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“Tony said that Thor wants to be a mermaid and that it’s all your fault.”

Digesting Natasha’s raspy words - and thinking she was _hot as hell_ \- Darcy tried to figure out what they were talking about. After a few seconds, her entire face lit up when the memory came flooding back. “ _Oh my god_ ,” she gasped, throwing her head back as she cackled. “Oh man. Fuck, yes, _yes_ , how did I not think of that before now?”

She could tell Barton was enjoying the show, his lips lifting in entertainment, but could only make out quiet examination from the woman at his side. “I mean, I never expected him to really _do_ it! I was five breadsticks in by that time of the night. He’s really going to build a new Asgard under the ocean? That doesn’t sound like a good idea. How could he have taken me seriously?”

One of Natasha’s shoulders lifted and fell gracefully. “It’s Thor. We’re kind of used to that kind of thing from him.”

“So it’s _true_ , then? You were the one who told Thor that he could be the next King Triton?”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at the archer. “A _Little Mermaid_ reference. I like it. Seen it a bunch?”

Clint and Natasha shared a look, having a silent conversation between themselves, before Clint turned back to Darcy. “We know a little girl who loves it.”

“Nice,” Darcy said, happy gratification in her expression. When the agents fell quiet, Darcy found herself wondering about the _real_ reason for their visit. “No, but seriously, was there something I can do for you?”

Reaching into his back pocket, Clint pulled out a sheet of paper and unfolded it, then held it up for her to see. “Was this your doing?”

Hazel gaze landing on the invite for a movie night - which she’d placed in the private elevator a week ago - Darcy’s amused expression faded the slightest but. “Yeah, but no one’s really…” She trailed off when the person she’d been _expecting_ returned. “Ah! Jane Foster, allow me to introduce you to Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton.”

“Oh,” Jane said, “we have visitors.” Darcy watched the astrophysicist look down at the ratty clothes she was wearing before glancing back up at Clint and Natasha. “Um, hi.”

“It’s nice to see you both again.” When Darcy and Jane looked at him with confusion, he waved them off. “I was in New Mexico when the big guy arrived.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at Clint. “So you saw us but we didn’t see you?”

Clint shrugged. “It’s a talent.”

Watching a corner of Natasha’s mouth twitch at the explanation, Darcy felt like she was out of her depth; hanging out with Thor and Bucky didn’t prepare her for the level of intimidation when it came to being around the rest of the Avengers. “Yeah, the flyer was me,” she explained, “I put it up last week, but no one’s really said anything about it. I figured we’d just forget it and -”

“No. No, no, no. This is going to happen.” Clint took a step closer to Darcy. “The last time all six of us got together was…” He cast a look over his shoulder. “When?”

“Sokovia.”

“Oh. Right.” Clint went quiet for a moment, his eyes cast down at the floor before he shrugged off whatever memory had dimmed his eyes and looked back up at Darcy. “Do you know how many times I’ve tried getting us all together to do stuff? Guess I never thought about putting a flyer in the elevator.”

“Yeah,” Natasha rasped, “I’m sure that’s why no one’s got back to you.” 

Ignoring the bite and sarcasm in Natasha’s words, Clint folded the flyer and stuck it back in his pocket. “Anyway. I love it. When? Where? Here? One of the lounges?” When Natasha looked over at him, he gave her an innocent, indulgent smile. “What? Do you know how long it’s been since we had a night that _doesn’t_ involve KidzBop and pull-ups? We need a night, Tasha. We _deserve_ a night. Then maybe next weekend we can take the kids and give Laura a night to herself.”

Considering his suggestion, Natasha brought a finger to her chin and tapped it softly. “Or you could take the kids and Laura and I can have a girls night.”

A playful spark flashed in Clint’s eyes. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”

Darcy’s gaze slid to her left, catching Jane’s eyes and seeing the same surprise in their whiskey-depths that she knew was in her own. She’d never met either of the agents, and while she didn’t understand half of what they were talking about, it definitely felt like she and Jane had been pulled into the middle of a conversation.

Giving Natasha a veiled smirk, Clint turned back to the other women. “All I’m saying is that the movie idea sounds great and I want to come. So when do we pull the trigger on this?”

“Uhhm, I mean, I could email you with details,” Darcy answered, reaching over for a pad of paper and a pen. “Okay, go ahead.”

“My email is ex ex caw caw arrow guy sixty-nine ex ex at hotmail dot com.”

The pen in Darcy’s hand froze, and her head lifted comically slowly so she could blink at the blond agent. “Come again?”

“It’s _xxcawcawarrowguy69xx@hotmail.com_.”

Darcy blinked. “No, it’s not.”

Clint didn’t flinch. “Yes. It is.”

“I think we need to hang out more.”

Enjoying the look on Darcy’s face, Clint looked over at Natasha. “Hear that, Tasha? People want to hang out with me.”

Rolling her eyes at her partner, Natasha’s gaze landed on Darcy. “You let us know when and where, and we’ll be there.”

“Okay,” Darcy said with a hint of uncertainty. Or fear. She wasn’t exactly sure which.

“ _Oh!_ ” Clint snapped his fingers as he and Natasha headed for the doors. “What if we get Laura’s mom to watch the kids and the _three_ of us…”

Quiet hung in the lab for a good thirty seconds before Darcy turned to look at Jane, an incredulous look on her face. “Did that really just happen?”

“Which part?”

“The part where Black Widow and Hawkeye were here and want to watch movies with us?”

“Yeah, it happened.” Frowning softly, Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “How did you even get the idea for a movie night?”

“I thought it up when I was in the elevator with Dr. Banner.”

“Oh.” Jane reached out and picked a piece of lint from Darcy’s sweater. “So, he liked the idea?”

Though Jane was doing her absolute best to sound ambivalent, Darcy could pick out the interest in her best friend’s voice. “Yes. Yes he did. He said he’d come, too.”

“I mean, I _guess_ I could make time for a movie.”

Loving her personal astrophysicist more each day, Darcy twined her arms with Jane’s. “See? _Now_ you’re talking.”

** - _Bury It_ \- Chvrches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When was the last time you hydrated? Had a glass of water today?  
> Unclench your teeth.  
> Lift your arms above your head. Roll those shoulders back.  
> Take a moment and listen to your body.   
> It's the only one you've got.   
> It's a temple, and you're its priest.   
> No one else can tell you how to worship.  
> <3


	19. Interlude One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve celebrate the Fourth of July in Brooklyn in the 40's, while Darcy remembers times spent with her mother when she was younger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys didn't think I could spend a day celebrating Steve Rogers' birthday without writing a little something, did you?  
> Enjoy this little slice of memories while you, hopefully, chow on some nommy food.  
> Unless you're working, in which case, you are a BOSS to work on a holiday!  
> You make the world continue to spin and I'm so grateful for you!  
> I hope you enjoy!  
> <3 My friends! <3  
>  
> 
>   
> 

_It was sweltering. The warm summer sun had bathed the Brooklyn streets all day, and even though the sun was setting, the buildings hemorrhaged heat to the point where staying inside was impossible. The rooftops were filled with residents looking for any reprieve from the sticky fever temperature. Despite the heat, there was a flurry of activity at the top of the tenements. Children ran with sparklers in hand, trailing wakes of light as they laughed and played._

_Bucky Barnes’ attention was drawn to his right when the boy sharing his sheet let out a frustrated sigh and began erasing what he’d just drawn. “What is it?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”_

_“I can’t get his hands right.”_

_Stretching so he could spy what was on his best friend’s pad of paper, Bucky’s eyebrows raised, a impressed smirk on his face. “They look great.”_

_“They don’t look **real** ,” Steve Rogers said as he brought the pencil to the page, painstakingly going slow in an attempt to be satisfied. When it continued to vex him, he let out a trumpet of air and pulled the paper from the book before balling it up in his hands. He lifted his arm as if he was going to toss the ball over the edge of the roof, but was stopped at the last minute when Bucky’s fist shot out and caught it. “Let it go, Buck.”_

_“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Bucky said, carefully un-crinkling the page and smoothing it with his hands, “everything you draw is a masterpiece.”_

_Feeling his cheeks heat at the compliment, Steve looked down at an empty page. A blank piece of paper had never sat right with him, and though he itched to fill it was **something** , he had to admit the sun had dipped low enough that the sunlight would be the next to go. He flipped the cover of the pad closed and carefully stowed the new pencil set that had been a birthday present from the Barnes family. He ran his fingers over the wood, feeling like he was an imposter working with something so nice._

_He looked over as Bucky ran his hands over the drawing again, grey gaze focused on the half-finished image. Steve had never met anyone as unfailingly charming as James Barnes. Ever since they were children, the dark-haired boy with the charismatic smile had made Steve feel shy, unable to accept the amount of support Bucky seemed to have in spades. While Steve might carry doubt, Bucky answered back with absolute certainty and the perfect words to lift his spirit._

_An errant firecracker sounded on one of the rooftops surrounding them, and Steve’s attention was drawn to the flickering lights and laughter. When the first burst of an **actual** firework squealed into the sky, his blue gaze directed up, watching the explosion of color in the sky._

_“They’re for you, you know that, right?” Bucky held his breath when Steve looked over at him, the wrinkle between Steve’s brow taking the entirety of Bucky’s attention. He’d known the man beside him for as long as he could remember, and the feelings in his chest were indescribable. Even with all the flashing lights and screams of children to distract, he only had eyes for his best friend. “The fireworks. They’re for your birthday.”_

_“They’re for the fourth,” Steve said with a soft roll of his eyes, “not me.”_

_“ **Nuh-uh** ,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, eyes flicking up when another burst lit the sky. “Whenever I see fireworks, it just makes me think of you.”_

_The conviction in Bucky’s voice made Steve’s heart beat faster, and he looked down at his hands and the dark smudges on his fingers from the art pencils, needing to avert his gaze, not wanting Bucky to see the barely-veiled desire in his eyes. He was still trying to understand his own feelings about the man at his side, and the last thing he wanted to do was irreparably harm the most important relationship in his life._

_“When I’m overseas, every firework I see will make me think of you.” Bucky saw Steve look over at him sharply, but he kept his eyes skyward, another burst bathing them in green light. “They won’t celebrate the fourth, obviously, but there’ll be something, I’m sure.”_

_“Most blasts you’ll see will be artillery fire,” Steve said, unable to keep the worry from his tone. Bucky going into the army was an inevitability, but it was one Steve hadn’t fully accepted. He’d been at Bucky’s side for so long that it felt incredibly wrong to be anywhere else, and the prospect of **losing** his best friend filled his veins with ice. “You’ll be careful?”_

_Bucky’s gaze slid to Steve, watching his eyes grow brighter when another burst filled the air with the same cornflower blue of Steve’s eyes. “When am I not careful?”_

_Lips lifting in response to the smirk on Bucky’s face, Steve fidgeted with his hands, a restless energy that seemed to fill him any time he remember the days of Bucky being right beside him were numbered. “Just keep your head down and you’ll be alright.”_

_There was a hint of resignation in Steve’s tone, and it furrowed Bucky’s brow. He still had three years before he could enlist, but it’d been his path in life since he was born. His father had fought beside Steve’s in World War I, best friends until the very end, and even though he was following in his father’s footsteps, Bucky could think of nothing but the pain he’d feel when he’d have to leave the man at his side. “I’m coming home, Steve.”_

_Steve sighed and leaned back against the roof’s railing, letting his eyes fall closed. “I know, Buck.”_

_“No, Steve,” Bucky said, reaching out to rest his hand over Steve’s, watching the blond look over at him in surprise. “Listen to me very carefully: there is not a single thing in this world that would keep me from coming home to you.” The look on Steve’s face froze Bucky’s heart, and felt his chest tighten in anxiety. There was a weight to his words, a deeper meaning that was telegraphed in his gaze. Bucky watched Steve’s eyes for any sign that he understood what he meant in the words he hadn’t said. “ **Nothing.** ”_

_Blinking at Bucky, feeling the air heavy with importance, Steve felt the weight on his chest, finding it hard to swallow around the emotion in his throat. He turned the hand beneath Bucky’s, carefully twining their fingers together, feeling the heat and warmth of Bucky’s hand in his._

_A confession without words._

_A promise without strings._

_An **inevitability**. _

_Steve wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed there like that, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, but the scream of a child startled him and he pulled his hand back, glancing around to make sure no one had seen what happened, but nobody was giving them a second glance, too concerned with the fireworks and conversation. When he looked back at Bucky, his best friend’s eyes were still on him. “I want to go with you,” he finally said, feeling the first sting of tears. “I should be going with you.”_

_“You are.” Again, the gravity of what Bucky revealed was in the words **not** being said. “Wherever I am, you are, too.”_

_Chest fluttering, Steve wished he could explain the terror and fear that gripped him at the thought of losing his best friend, let alone the love of his life. Because that was Bucky **was**. Even though it hadn’t been spoken of, and even if it was ‘ **wrong** ’, James Barnes was the only person he wanted to have by his side. Forever._

_Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off when the first volley of real fireworks split the sky. As everyone on the hot and humid rooftops looked up in awe, Bucky and Steve continued to look at each other, their skin painted with reds, and greens, and blues. Stealing a moment while everyone’s attention was pointed up, Bucky leaned against Steve’s side, their bodies touching from knee to shoulder. With a quick glance, verifying that no one was looking in their direction, Bucky dipped his head and pressed his lips against Steve’s. It was only for a fraction of a second, but as he pulled back, all Bucky wanted to do was press in again, to feel the same rush at **finally** expressing what he’d felt for his best friend since they were children._

_Rooted to the spot and feeling surprise ping through his body, Steve tasted the hint of spun sugar that they’d shared earlier in the day, a splurged expense in honor of the day. His cheeks were flaming, not from the heat of the sun but the warmth of desire, and he blinked slowly at Bucky, feeling light headed. He wanted nothing more than to have another kiss, but he knew better than to press their luck since they were surrounded. A shy smile turned his lips, and he watched it mirrored in Bucky’s gaze, too._

_“Happy Birthday, Steve,” Bucky said, his smile growing as he turned his face toward the sky, the sparks in the air second-fiddle to the ones in his stomach._

Darcy Lewis laid back on the grass, arms raised and hands pillowed under her head, hazel eyes blinking slowly. Her Fourth of July celebration was the same every year, and she’d been doing it for more than a decade. The ground was soft from the rains the previous day, and as she gazed up at the darkening sky, a memory crystalized in her mind, and she let it pull her backward through time.

_”Okay, how about that one?”_

_“It was red.”_

_“Mmhmmm.”_

_“Which means….” A nine-year-old Darcy glanced in Abigail Lewis’ direction. “… calcium?”_

_“Oh, so close, my little star,” Abigail said with a smile. “Calcium salts make orange fireworks. Red is strontium and lithium.”_

_Clapping a hand over her forehead, Darcy’s expression was exaggerated in order to earn a laugh from her mother. “ **Duh** , I knew that. It was just stored all the way in the back of my head.”_

_Abigail laughed, reaching out to poke Darcy in the ribs and earning a squeal of giggles as the girl rolled away from her on the grass then returned to her side. “Okay,” she continued, “we’ll just wait for the next one. So pull all that knowledge to the **front** of your head.”_

_“Not all of us are geniuses like you, **Mommy** ,” Darcy groused, though the smile on her face was large._

_“Anyone can be a genius about something. Yours might not be science, which is alright by me. You’ll just have to discover where your genius hides.”_

_Darcy frowned, a bit of the light dimming in her eyes. “What If I never find it?”_

_Abigail clicked her tongue and turned onto her side so she could see her daughter. “You will, Darcy-love. Even if it takes you forever.”_

_“Forever?” Darcy said, eyes widening comically. “ **Forever** forever?”_

_Chuckling, Abigail reached out and ran a finger down Darcy’s forehead, then nose, then ended by gripping the girl’s chin softly. “Maybe not forever, but you’ll find it. I believe in you.”_

_Darcy grinned, one of her front teeth missing and the one beside it moving enough that it was next. She scooted closer across the blanket, so she could put her head next to her mom’s, both of them looking up at the sky. “I believe in you too, mommy,” she breathed, reaching so she could grab a bit of her mom’s dark hair and twirl it around one of her fingers. “We can believe in each other.”_

_“Always, Star Dust. Always.”_

Back in Virginia, a bright spark of green lit the sky and a smile curled Darcy’s lips. “Barium.”

_Blue._

“Copper.”

_Purple._

“Stronium and copper.”

 _Silver_.

“Aluminum, titanium, and magnesium.”

When the sky turned yellow, Darcy opened her mouth to speak them paused, looking to her right for help. “I always forget yellow,” she murmured, fingertips absently tracing her mother’s name on the tombstone beside her. “Sorry. It’ll come to me, just give it a moment.”

Closing her eyes, still able to see the pops of colors through her eyelids as they lit the sky around her, Darcy thought back to the fourth of July’s she’d spent at her mother’s side, _ooh_ ing and _aah_ ing at the pretty lights, the smell of sulphur hanging in the air.

“ _Sodium_ ,” Darcy gasped, her eyes flying open, a smile curling her lips. “Sodium makes them yellow.”

As the grand finale began in the distance, Darcy went quiet, the soft breeze ruffling the grass around her and setting her curls to fly around her head. It was July, but a shiver traveled up her spine, heart and mind traveling back to a time before she’d experienced the bitter taste of loss. Her mother had never dwelt in darkness or sadness, and she’d instilled the same values in her daughter.

 _“Nothing happens **to** you,”_ Abigail was fond of saying, _”it happens **for** you.”_

Watching the colors fade and twinkle, Darcy let out a deep breath, letting her pain sink into the ground beneath her until she felt nothing but happy at the bittersweet memories that flashed in her mind. “Happy birthday, mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Front Porch - Joy Williams**
> 
> _There are no wrong roads_  
>  _And no window stays closed_  
>  _And love is always sad when it fades_  
>  _The glass is better stained anyways_  
> 
> 
> _If never you find what you're looking for_  
>  _Come on back to the front porch_  
>  _Say my name through the screen door_  
>  _Come on back to the front porch_  
>  _Whatever you've done, it doesn't matter_  
>  _'Cause darling we're all a little splintered and battered_  
>  _But the light is on, what you waiting for?_  
>  _Come on back, come on back to the front porch_  
> 
> 
> _We carved a story in these boards_  
>  _Watching life go back and forth_  
>  _You take it all for granted, then you leave_  
>  _And then it takes a while to realize what you need_  
> 
> 
> _I took the long way_  
>  _Looking for the shortcut_  
>  _To find out that this place_  
>  _Was made of the best stuff_  
> 
> 
> _If never you find what you're looking for_  
>  _Come on back to the front porch_  
>  _Say my name through the screen door, oh_  
>  _Come on back to the front porch_  
>  _Whatever you've done, it doesn't matter_  
>  _'Cause darling we're all a little splintered and battered_  
>  _But the light is on, what you waiting for?_  
>  _Come on back to the front porch_


	20. Interlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve have a conversation. Tony and Steve have a conversation. Darcy and Jane have a conversation _with_ someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> I hope all the readers in the states had a good 4th!  
> And for those _outside_ the states, I hope you had a totally normal Thursday!  
> I managed to stay un-burnt, but my fellow Lake!Timers didn't.  
> Just lucky I guess. *shrug*  
>  **And with that segue...**  
>  I am seriously the luckiest author. You are all amazing and are a constant source of happiness.  
> <3<3<3  
>   
> 

_And I will hold_  
_I'll hold onto you_  
_No matter what this world'll throw_  
_It won't shake me loose_  
_I'll reach my hands out in the dark_  
_And wait for yours to interlock_  
_I'll wait for you_  
_I'll wait for you_  


**Don't Give Up On Me - Andy Grammar**

Their rooms were quiet when Steve pushed through the door, and he took a moment to appreciate the stillness. He’d been in meetings all day, going over training schedules, and new hires, and a million other things that meant he found himself exhausted at the end of the day, and all he wanted to do was lay next to his guy, watch something boring on tv, then pass out. But something had happened earlier that needed his attention first. “Buck?” 

Bucky wandered into the living area at Steve’s call, recognizing the tone of Steve’s voice and knowing something was up. “Yeah?” 

“Where were you this morning?” 

Going still, Bucky searched his lover’s blue eyes for any hint of Steve’s mood, or the reasoning behind his question. “What?” 

“This morning. After you left this morning, I got a text from Sam telling me he couldn’t meet up this afternoon, so I was going to meet you in the gym, but you weren’t there.” 

“Oh.” Bucky let out the air in his lungs, casting his gaze toward the soft carpet. It was almost impossible, especially with her hazel eyes and warm smile, but Bucky worried that maybe, if he explained what he’d been doing with Darcy, that Steve wouldn’t approve. 

Bucky wasn’t ashamed of what he was doing - it was completely innocent, after all - but because he didn’t want to jinx the way the coffee and conversation had been making him feel. It felt like the coffee shop was like some kind of bubble that locked all of Darcy’s positivity inside, and the last thing he wanted was for that bubble to pop. It was silly, he knew, but he’d been hoping to put this conversation off for just a little bit longer. 

The look on Bucky’s face made Steve’s stomach flip with concern, not sure what would make his best friend look so uncertain. “Buck, what’s going on?” 

Realizing there was nothing for it, Bucky’s gaze swung back up toward Steve. “I’ve been going to the coffee shop on the first floor.” 

Surprise rocketed into Steve’s eyes, and if he’d had to guess a reason, coffee would _not_ have been on his list. He knew Bucky was trying hard, and they’d have several meetings with potential therapists but hadn’t found the right one, but the fact that the soldier felt strong enough to be in public took Steve aback. “Really?” 

The incredulous tone in Steve’s question made Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly. “Yeah, punk. Really.” 

“By yourself?” 

“No.” 

Steve’s lips continued on their downward journey, a frown on his face when he couldn’t seem to pry the words from Bucky’s mouth. “Then who -” 

“The woman who helped me on the elevator,” Bucky finished, grey gaze watching Steve digest the information. He knew it was a little weird that he’d suddenly started hanging out with someone, but after what she’d done for him, compiled with everything _else_ she’d done for him, wanting to be around Darcy made sense. He just wasn’t sure how to explain it all to Steve. 

“Friday said it was Ms. Lewis,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest. In the past few months, getting Bucky to talk about himself and what he was feeling had been a battle, and after what had happened in that elevator, Steve’s worry was heavy in his chest. 

“Darcy Lewis, yeah.” 

Steve blinked at Bucky, the name _Darcy_ bringing to mind memories he thought back on more than he liked to admit. “Lewis?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky said, eyebrows knitting together. “Figured you’d know her. She’s worked with Thor in the past.” 

“Oh.” 

This time it was Steve who went quiet. The two nights he’d spent in Darcy’s company at the bar popped into his head often. Often enough that one day, reasoning he was in the area while clearly being no where near Ernie’s bar, he’d stopped back at the building to see if, by some stroke of luck, she was still in town. 

The bar was closed, seeing as it was the middle of the day, so he’d gone around to the alley, lips lifting when he spied the piece of duct tape on the window from where he’d thrown the bottle cap through. Deciding it wasn’t likely he’d break the glass twice, Steve picked a cap from the snowy ground and chucked it, the ‘ _ting_ ’ sound it made cutting through the cold air. 

When a light had flipped on, Steve felt his heart start beating faster at just the _thought_ that Darcy might still be up there. His happiness turned sour, however, when a large man opened the window and yelled down at him. Darcy was gone, just like she’d said she’d be, and he’d missed his chance. 

Watching a flurry of emotions rise and fall on Steve’s face, Bucky took a step closer to his love. “What? What is it?” 

Pulled from his thoughts about the dark-haired woman, Steve looked back up at Bucky and the question hanging in the air. “Nothing. I was just thinking that I’d like to thank her. For how she helped you.” 

The snort that broke free from Bucky was genuine, and he pointed a smirk in Steve’s direction. “I think she’d hate that.” When Steve’s frown deepened, Bucky took a step toward the blond, “but only because she has issues taking compliments.” 

Steve lifted an eyebrow at Bucky. “You throwing a lot her way?” 

The first real smile that he’d had that day - well, except for the one’s he’d shared with Darcy that morning - lifted Bucky’s lips. “Nothing she didn’t deserve.” 

The bright expression on Bucky’s face made Steve hold his breath. It was an expression he hadn’t seen on his best friend’s face in a long time, and Steve found himself wanting to know who this woman was. If she’d been able to help Bucky through the rough time in the elevator _and_ was making him smile, it meant Steve wanted to thank her. _Needed_ to thank her. 

Looking deeper, knowing that smiles could still hide darkness, Steve reached out and squeezed Bucky’s arm. “How are you doing?” 

It was a question he’d been asked at every therapists’ office, and it still rang unhappily around Bucky’s head. He was doing his best. It just so happened that his best wasn’t that great. Not anymore. “I’m getting real tired of people asking me that question.” 

“You told me to push,” Steve said, letting his hand drop to his side. “You told me to push. This is me being pushy.” 

Bucky couldn’t help the roll of his eyes. “I’ve seen you ‘pushy,’ punk, and this ain’t it.” 

Sharing a quick smile with his best friend, Steve pushed on. “When do you meet with her next?” 

“Monday. Oh-five-thirty.” 

“I want to be there.” When Bucky glanced up at him with an eyebrow raised, Steve punched Bucky’s arm softly, his tone taking on something close to exasperation. “I want to meet her, shake her hand, tell her how grateful I am she was there when I couldn’t be.” 

Some of the humor faded from Bucky’s eyes at Steve’s words. “Steve, this wasn’t your fault.” 

“I was gone. I wasn’t here when you needed me.” 

“You were doing your job. Thor and his people needed your help. You made the right choice.” It was clear his words did little to ease the weight Steve felt on his shoulders, but Bucky wasn’t sure how to get through to the blond when he was determined to be stubborn. _Which is different from you how?_ Bucky’s mind supplied. 

“Doesn’t matter why I was gone. It doesn’t help with the guilt.” 

The timbre sound of Steve’s voice, coupled with the look on his face, made Bucky move closer. “I have more than enough guilt for the both of us. I’m alright, Steve. Not one hundred percent, but better.” 

Looking in Bucky’s eyes, Steve searched their depths for any sign that Bucky was lying. He found none. Instead, he found a light in all that grey, coupled with a smile that was worlds past what he’d expected to see again, at least any time soon. Since returning home from Wakanda, Steve had made it his job to verify that Bucky was doing better, and it appeared he was, though part of Steve couldn’t help but feel shame that it hadn’t been because of _him_. It’d taken a stranger to get through to his best friend, and that was harder to swallow than he thought it’d be. “And she has something to do with that?” 

Eyes dropping toward the floor again, a small smile curled Bucky’s lips. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft, “yeah she has.” 

“Then I’m going with you on Monday.” The look of amusement mixed with uncertainty on Bucky’s face was enough to narrow Steve’s eyes. “I won’t stay long. I’ll just pop in, shake her hand, then be on my way.” It appeared something he’d said was funny, as Bucky snorted with laughter. “What?” 

Bucky shook his head, leaning back against the door behind him. “I’m just imagining you telling her thanks. Could be quite the show.” 

“I want to help people.” 

Behind the yellow lenses of his glasses, Tony’s eyes swung toward Steve, looking for any kind of explanation behind the sentence that’d been said with such certainty. “... is this a job interview that I just walked into the middle of? Pretty sure you already have a job.” 

“Tony.” His name from Steve’s mouth quieted the engineer, and Steve led them toward a park that sat across from the World Council’s New York headquarters. 

Since talking with Bucky, he’d been doing a lot of soul searching, trying to figure out what he could do to ease the suffering of his best friend. He was not a therapist, had no special skills that would help him navigate the battle-raged landscape of Bucky’s mind, but he still found himself wanting to do _more_. 

Whatever had happened in that elevator had shifted something inside Bucky, and watching his love came back from the precipice was more than he could put into words. It reminded him, though, that there were thousands of people who’d served in one way or another that were still looking for help. He’d heard the statistic that every day, twenty-two soldiers took their own lives by suicide, but it was so much, _too much_ , for him to wrap his head around. 

When he’d first met Sam, and seen the group meetings he’d led, it’d hit Steve just how _different_ things were now. Soldiers didn’t return home to ticker-tape parades. They came home unprepared for how to return to civilian life. He knew the term ‘battle fatigue’ was tossed around a lot, but it was _more_ than that. The nightmares that came hand in hand with being first on the scene were dark, and scary, and he wanted to play a bigger part. 

Stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, Steve glanced back at Tony to find the engineer waiting quietly, giving him the space to say what he needed without pushing. It gave him the confidence he needed to continue. “You said that I need to do more, and you’re right. I _do_ need to do more. I _want_ to do more. I want to help soldiers and first responders who are struggling.” 

Tony frowned, a look of concern on his face. “Did someone say something? If it was someone on staff, I can -” 

“No, it’s not because of someone,” Steve said with a shake of his head, but his expression turned thoughtful when the weight of Tony’s question hit him. 

“Are you sure? Because it kinda looks like it might be personal.” 

Steve’s eyes swung toward Tony, judging the other man’s tone before shaking his head again. “Yeah, the stuff that happened with Bucky is personal, but it’s more than that. Take you, for example.” 

One of Tony’s dark eyebrows quirked upward. “Pretty sure we already had this conversation, and I believe I told you that I’m _not_ a soldier.” 

“Aren’t you?” Tony looked over at him sharply, and Steve could almost taste the fight that was only seconds away. He hadn’t meant to make Tony upset, but he needed to get all of his thoughts out, and part of his reasoning included the man at his side. 

“Steve.” 

“Tony.” 

“Look -” 

“When you came out of that cave, you went straight into a war. You might not have had a rank on your shoulder, but you were in a battle, whether you want to admit it or not. And now, after everything you’ve seen, you still don’t feel like a soldier upholding the greater good?” He watched Tony go quiet, a thread of refusal in his dark gaze. “And after you got back, what helped you?” 

“Pepper.” 

The answer has been nearly instantaneous, and Steve smiled at the absolute certainty in Tony’s tone. “I meant other than Pepper.” 

“What are you getting at, Rogers?” 

Realizing he was annoying the engineer at not explaining enough, Steve brushed the snow from a bench and took a seat, waiting until Tony had sat next to him before continuing. “There needs to be support for people when they get home. I want them to know that they’re not alone. I want them to know that it’s alright to hurt, and feel pain, and that it’s not a weakness. That there are people out there who understand. 

The funding for the VA is insulting, and the way it’s running obviously isn’t working. The entire infrastructure needs overhauled, from top to bottom. I want to talk to people who are in the administration, the people who can help, the ones that have the _power_ to help.” 

Tony signed, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. “The administration’s a bit of a mess, what with Ross being under investigation, and the vice president -” 

“It shouldn’t _matter_ who’s sitting in that office. All that should matter is the mental and physical health of those people who put their lives on the line for the safety of everyone else.” 

It was quiet for a long moment, both of them swallowing the words and their importance. Finally, Tony looked over at Steve, unable to keep a rueful smile from his lips. “You never struck me as a political type.” 

“It shouldn’t be about politics. Soldiers, EMTs, firefighters, first responders… they all deserve better. So much better.” 

Even if he’d wanted to (he didn’t), Tony knew better than to argue with Steve when he started using his ‘Captain’ voice. It was a pretty thought, but Tony knew sometimes thoughts didn’t turn into action unless you had resolve. Looking at Steve, it was obvious he had more than enough stamina to armor up for the long fight. “Okay. So what are you wanting to do with this?” 

“I was hoping you’d help out.” Tony’s snort of surprise made Steve’s lips slip upward. “Seems like you’ve got the hang of this philanthropy thing. Beverly won’t stop raving about you.” 

Tony looked over at Steve at the woman’s name. “You talked with Beverly about me?” 

“I’ve been meeting her for lunch. It’s come up in conversation.” Steve watched a smirk crawl onto Tony’s face before the other man looked away. Like he’d been hit with a bucket of cold water, Steve realized that having continued contact with Mrs. Edwards might have been Tony’s plan all along, and he’d played right into billionaire’s hands. “But it seems like you already know that.” 

“Let’s just say I’d hoped, and that I’m very happy to be proven right, like always.” When laughter huffed from Steve’s chest, Tony sat back on the bench, stretching his arm across the back so he could look at Steve from a better angle. “Okay, so when -” 

“Now. Soon.” Tony shook his head in his peripheral vision, a smirk on his lips, but Steve continued with the same fervor. “Helping Happy and the security team is great, and the safety of the people in that tower is important to me, but I think this might let me do _more_. And it might be better _for_ me, Tony.” 

Tony’s gaze searched Steve’s expression, noting the light of passion in his eyes, the way his body vibrated with thinly-contained purpose. He’d always felt the need to rebel against that energy, the ‘I know what’s best’ energy that Steve Rogers exuded from every pore, but the topic they were discussing was more Steve’s area of expertise than Tony’s. He reached out to clap Steve on the shoulder. “Okay. I hear you, Cap. I’ll start looking into things, setting up meetings with the right people.” 

The nod of Steve’s head and the look of released tension on his face brought a frown to Tony’s face. Something in the other man’s posture meant he was still holding onto something, and Tony had an idea what it was. “And Barnes? Think he’ll want to be involved?” 

Steve glanced to his left, watching as Tony nonchalantly picked a piece of lint from his slacks, for the world looking like someone with no ulterior motives. Over the years he’d known Tony, however, Steve had gotten good at judging what Tony was saying _without_ Tony having to say it. The fact that he was asking how Bucky as doing without actually asking was the kind of verbal gymnastics he’d come to expect. “I don’t think so. Like I said, helping Happy gave him something to focus on when we first got home, but I’m not sure if it is, or _should_ be, part of his long term plans.” 

Tony made no outward sign at Steve’s words, before turning to watch a pair of ducks who were badgering a woman for a piece of her sandwich. “Alright. Just you. Pretty poetic that Captain America is looking out for his fellow front-liners. It’s a good marketing scheme, if nothing else.” He watched Steve rolls his eyes, but with good nature. Somewhere along the way they’d started to realize that words didn’t always properly convey what they were thinking, and that they had to look closer for intent. The fact that Steve knew Tony would never use soldiers or first-responders as celebrity fodder meant Steve knew him better than just a few months prior. “I’m on it, but only on one condition.” 

“How did I not see this coming?” Steve asked, looking toward the sky with non-surprise. 

“You can’t have lunch with Bev on Thursdays. Those are for me, and I will not be upstaged by you, Rogers.” 

Steve’s laugh was loud, and honest, and he turned so he could hold a hand out toward Tony, squeezing a little harder than was necessary when they shook. “I’m not stupid enough to believe I could.” 

“I don’t know, Cap. I’ve seen the sequin outfits they made the ladies wear on that USO tour. I’ve been meaning to ask: _how_ did they fit those wide shoulders of yours into that dress?” 

“Practice.” 

“Breathe in. Good. Now out. Again.”

With a heaving sigh, Jane’s gaze swung over to look at Darcy, a frown on her face. “How is this supposed to help me?” 

Darcy pointed an equally frustrated expression back at her best friend. “Jane, you’re a science goddess and I am your long suffering and devoted priestess, and we’re trying to kick your mojo so you can get past this hurdle.” 

“It’s not a hurdle.” 

“It’s something blocking the road.” 

“Hurdle. Obstacle. Bump. It’s all the same.” 

“Jane.” 

“Darcy.” 

Though she loved the woman at her side, sometimes she wanted to reach out and shake Jane’s shoulders. Taking care of the scientist was everything Darcy had ever wanted, but some days were _much easier_ than others. Jane could be incredibly stubborn (not that Darcy couldn’t be), but over the years, Darcy had learned techniques that worked on the pint-sized brunette. Darcy left her yoga mat on the ground and climbed to her feet, holding out a hand toward Jane. “Get up, loser, we’re going outside.” 

Jane looked up at Darcy from the floor, an incredulous look on her face. “ _What?_ It’s below freezing out!” 

“It’ll be even worse where we’re going. Get that perky ass up and follow me.” With a modicum of grouching, Jane finally got up and followed after Darcy. It was clear she wasn’t _happy_ with whatever Darcy had planned, but that mattered very little when Darcy had already decided on a course of action. When the elevator took them to the highest level, it was another two floors of stairs before they approached a heavy metal whose sign read: _Roof Access. Absolutely No Trespassing_. 

“You’re going to get us in trouble.” 

Rolling her eyes, Darcy cast a dubious glance over her shoulder as she pressed on the door release. The blast of cold air was immediate, and for the briefest of seconds, she reconsidered what she had planned. It was cold _as balls_ , but their problem required drastic measures. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around Jane’s upper arm, dragging her friend onto the roof proper. As Jane cursed a storm at her side, Darcy leaned down and grabbed a large rock, propping open the door. She turned back to Jane, the tip of her nose already numb from the cold. ”Okay. Solve the problem.” 

“ _What_?!” 

“You heard me,” Darcy said, hands rubbing along her bare arms, trying to stave off the chill. “We’re not leaving this roof until you get back this block.” 

“Darcy!” 

“Jane Amelia Foster, we are not leaving this frigid hellscape until you figure out what you’re missing.” 

The click of Jane’s tongue was heavy with frustration, and Darcy trailed after the scientist as she moved closer to the roof’s edge, very carefully peering over the side. Darcy didn’t join in Jane’s curiosity, as she’d grown up with a healthy fear of heights. Her fear of kangaroos? Much less healthy. Or understandable. When Jane looked toward the door again, Darcy darted to stand between her friend and their only means of escape. 

Jane did not sound happy when she threw her hands in the air. “We’re going to die of frostbite up here!” 

“Then either decide what appendages you’re willing to lose or get on with it. Those are your options. Where are you stuck?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“ _Jane!_ ” 

“I have no way of tracking the energy source!” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s moving too quickly.” 

“How do you know it’s moving quickly?” 

“Because it pops from one side of the galaxy to the other. Fast. Faster than anything.” 

“What can move that fast?” 

“Light.” 

“Is the radiation signature stable?” 

“It comes and goes.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Jane!” 

“ _I don’t know!_ ” 

Seeing the frustration on Jane’s face was like a knife to the gut, and Darcy desperately wanted to help her friend. She wasn’t a scientist. knew shit-all about most things in the world, but _scientists_ were her life’s work, and she’d be damned if she was going to let this obstacle derail Jane’s research. She bent, running her hands over the inch or two of snow covering the ground. In a quick motion, she lifted her arm and pulled it back, watching Jane’s eyes widen in surprise. 

The half-assed snowball flew past Jane’s face, the powdery snow breaking apart midair and scattering to the wind. Jane looked at Darcy in surprise, indignation on her face. “You almost hit me!” 

“I was aiming for your head, so be glad I missed!” 

Jane crossed her arms over her chest, whiskey-colored gaze glancing away from her best friend. “This isn’t helping, Darcy.” 

“What could be fucking with your data like this?” 

“Life.” 

Rolling her eyes at the overdramatic streak that Jane could fall into when she wasn’t happy, Darcy decided to buy into the petulant tone that Jane had adopted. “Look, unless a massive solar flare lights up the sky and makes us warm again, we’re going to die up here. And I’m good going when you do, but this isn’t exactly how I pictured it all going down, so look here –“ 

The expression on Jane’s face dropped Darcy’s tirade. Jane’s eyes were wide enough that they looked comical, and her lips formed a perfect circle. Darcy look a step toward the scientist, her own heart racing at the possibilities. “What is it? What’d you just realize?” 

“Solar flares,” Jane stated, as if that was explanation enough. 

Pretty sure she was missing something – which wasn’t all that surprising as Darcy was prone to word vomit and knew half the things that came out of her mouth was nonsense – she took another step toward Jane. “What?” 

“The ionosphere.” 

The confusion didn’t leave Darcy’s face. “And that is...” 

“Imagine there’s this band around the earth,” Jane said as she gestured through the air with her hands, “ _miles_ above us. Due to solar and cosmic radiation, the atoms in the ionosphere are positive. Everything except the positive ions are stripped away. If I can hone in on _those_ signals, I might be able to track it.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s like down in Louisiana. The signal we’re looking for. I was _only_ looking for the same signature, but it’s _not_. We know the power was here on Earth at one point. If I can look for the same positive ions _out there_ , it stands to reason that we’d find the source.” 

Darcy tried to wrap her head around what Jane was saying. “So it’s like it got covered in Earth goo, and we can just track the goo instead of the radiation?” 

“I would laugh at your use of ‘Earth Goo,’ but it’s fucking cold out here, can we please go –“ 

“ _ **What are you doing up here?**_ ” 

Darcy spun toward the voice, reaching out to Jane as her best friend brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the scream that had almost escaped. “Jesus Fuck!” The man was in a fresh pressed suit, though he didn’t strike Darcy as a SHIELD agent. “I’m sorry,” she said, raising her hands so he could see they had no weapons, “we were just –“ 

“This is a no-go zone,” the man said, eyes narrowing at the women. “How’d you even –“ When they rushed to hold up their badges, he leaned forward to inspect them, eyes narrowing. When he realized they were legit, his puffed up shoulders deflated the tiniest bit. “Are you trying to get hypothermia? Because _this_ is how you get hypothermia.” 

“Sorry, we were working on a problem,” Jane offered, giving him a small, guilt-ridden smile. 

“Right now my only problem is the two of your trespassing up here. Get inside and I’ll figure out what to do with you.” 

When Jane looked over with a penitent glare, Darcy gave her best friend a bright grin, to which Jane rolled her eyes. The three pushed back through the door and a gust of wind knocked the door closed with a giant ‘bang!’ which made Jane yip again in fear. 

The three of them stood there, shivering against the cold they’d escaped. After a few tense moments, the man gave the two women a look over. “Are you trying to kill yourselves?” 

Darcy’s snort was heartfelt. “We’ve fought giant metal death-ray robots and killer elves from space. Stupid cold New York weather is the least of our worries.” 

The man’s expression didn’t look particularly impressed, though his gaze swing between the girls before his lips thinned. “The robot in New Mexico?” 

“You’ve heard of it?” Jane asked. 

“It was a giant robot. In New Mexico. Of course I’ve heard of it. Everyone’s heard of it. Means you know the prince of Asgard.” 

“God of Asgard,” Jane corrected. 

“God _king_ of Asgard.” When Jane’s gaze flicked to hers, Darcy shrugged a shoulder. 

“Yeah. whatever. The guy with the cape.” 

Darcy snorted as Jane nodded. “That’s the one.” 

“What floor are you guys on?” The girls looked at each other for a beat, though their lips stayed closed. With a snap of his fingers, he drew their attention back to him. “Hey, I asked a question.” 

Wincing softly, Jane shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “We’re not at liberty to discuss our work here.” 

The man did not look pleased. “On whose authority?” 

“Stark’s,” Darcy answered. At the look on his face, she frowned. “Tony Stark’s approval, sir.” She added ‘sir’ in an attempt to ingratiate them the man. She wasn’t sure it’d worked. 

His expression remained dubious. “Tony hired you?” 

“Tony and Bruce Banner,” Jane said with a nod of her head, “in person.” 

“You’re off the books?” 

While Darcy nodded, Jane gave him a small shoulder shrug. “I guess.” 

After another moment of quiet, where it felt like the man was deciding what to do with them, he seemed to think better of the situation. “Okay.” Without another word, he turned his back on the women and started down the stairs. 

“Hey!” When he paused on the stairs, Darcy came to the railing, blinking down at him. “That’s it?” 

More than anything, the man looked _tired_. “Look, I’ve been dealing with you and your magic power people for a few years now. If Tony doesn’t want anyone to know you’re here, then he’s got a reason. Besides, it means I have two less people to worry about.” 

Giving him a grin, Darcy leaned heavier on the railing. “You’re Happy Hogan, aren’t you?” 

This seemed to surprise the man, if the look in his eyes was any indication, and he cleared his throat softly. “You’ve heard of me?” 

“Of course. You’re Happy Hogan. Everyone’s heard of you.” It was a soft lie, Darcy reasoned, but if it ended up making the man smile, it’d be worth it. She’d heard Bucky talk about the head of security before, about how he used to be Stark’s bodyguard slash driver slash personal assistant, but this was the first time she’d come face to face with Happy. 

The look on Happy’s face was one of pride, and he straightened his back as he regarded the two women. “Well then. If you want to freeze to death on the roof, be my guest. You’ll be asking for Tony’s forgiveness instead of mine, and that makes you a little screwed.” 

Darcy and Jane watched the man descend the stairs before pushing through a door and disappearing out of sight. As the staircase echoed with the door slamming shut, Darcy turned to her best friend with a grimace. “Should we be worried?” 

Jane surprised Darcy by throwing her arms around her friend’s shoulders and smacking her cheek with a sloppy kiss. “Are you kidding? You’re absolutely amazing, you know that?” 

Glad that her plan had worked, though it’d gone a bit pear-shaped toward the end, Darcy gestured dismissively in the air as her cheeks tinted pink. “Oh, stop. But it worked?” 

“Yes, it worked,” Jane said with a grin and a nod, “and that makes you seriously the best.” 

“Then I’m happy. And _he_ was Happy,” she said, pointing down the stairs in the direction he’d gone. The groan and roll of Jane’s eyes filled Darcy’s chest with warmth, glad that she’d been able to help. As another strong gust of wind buffeted against the door leading onto the roof, Darcy felt her body vibrate with a shiver. “My bits are freezing and I can’t feel my face, so maybe we go warm up.” 

“That sounds like a good plan.” 

Darcy followed Jane down the stairs, hand gripping the railing for support as her nearly frozen numb feet argued with her. “Oh! We can use the big tub and have a soak!” 

“Together?” 

The scandalous tone in Jane’s voice earned a laugh from Darcy that echoed up and down the concrete stairs. The women had been through almost everything together, and that left little room for modesty. “It’s okay, Jane. It’s just a bath. I’ll bring my rubber ducky to protect your virtue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been good at taking my own advice.  
> For as often as I tell you that you're awesome, I'm on the other side, feeling down about myself.  
> My body. My voice. My anxiety. My depression.  
> By osmosis, it seems like I've finally accepted it.  
> I wore a bikini this weekend.  
> I have never owned a bikini.  
> I wore it on Saturday, and I have to say:  
> There is nothing more satisfying than doing something for yourself instead of for society.  
> Obese. Overweight. Fat. Tubby. Chubby.  
> If you're healthy: None. Of. That. Matters.  
> It's taken 34 years of society's judgment to realize that it _doesn't matter_.  
> You wanna wear a bikini that shows off your body? _Do it_.  
> You want to dye your hair that perfect shade of pink? _Do it_.  
> You want to get that tattoo that means the world to you? _Do it_.  
> It's all in you. Your power. Your strength.  
> Look in the mirror. Do you see it? Do you see how beautiful you are?  
> Imagine me over your shoulder, giving you a thumbs up and telling you how fucking gorgeous you are!  
> <3


	21. Night Collides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, Bucky, and Steve are in the same room. I repeat: Darcy, Bucky, and Steve are IN THE SAME ROOM!   
> *Kermit Flail Gif*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Happy Monday all you beautiful people!  
> The long awaited chapter is finally here!  
>  _They 'gon be in the same room ommggggggg!_  
>  Hope it was worth the wait!  
> (Have I told you lately that you're fucking awesome? YOU ARE!)  
> <3<3<3  
>   
> 

_There ain't much to say_  
_There ain't much to do_  
_Nothing here to see_  
_As night collides with bruise blue_  
_And no side tries to win_  
_Nothing up to lose_  
_It's how it all begins_  
_Just darkness._  
_Then you_  


**Be Scared With Me - Canyon City**

Steve tried his best not to fidget at Bucky’s side as the elevator took them to the lobby. Having his debriefs moved to the afternoons meant his entire schedule needed adjusted; he’d still be meeting up with Sam afterward, but until it all got worked out, his mornings would be, mostly, free and clear. Things would probably change once he and Tony started moving on their new project, but for the moment, he enjoyed getting to spend a little more time with Bucky.

Thinking about his best friend had his gaze swinging toward the man at his side. He knew Bucky found it funny that he wanted to meet Ms. Lewis, but the change he’d seen in Bucky since the incident with the elevator was incredible. Steve used to wake Bucky up from nightmares several nights a week, and that didn’t count the nightmares Bucky’d hidden from him, but in the past week, Bucky’d had no nightmares that Steve knew of. A stab of guilt cut through Steve’s chest when he realized just how bad things had gotten without him noticing. He knew Bucky had done a good job of brushing his concerns aside, but that did little to ease the shame that Steve hadn’t seen how much Bucky was drowning.

“Are you sure -”

“Steve, I swear to christ, if you ask me one more time…” Bucky’s gaze swung toward Steve, watching the blond’s lips lift softly as he looked down at the floor. Steve had spent the entire weekend making sure it was alright that he came and had coffee with him and Darcy, and if he asked _one more time_ , Bucky was going to throw him out of the elevator when it stopped.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous to meet her.”

“Why?”

Ignoring the incredulous tone in Bucky’s voice, Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I want to make a good impression.”

“You’re Captain America, punk. I think that’s all the impression you need.” A huff of laughter from the man at his side made the smirk on Bucky’s lips grow crooked, and he shook his head. “If she was fine having an ex-assassin’s head in her lap, I’m pretty sure you’ll meet the muster.”

“What?” Feeling like maybe he needed to have Bucky brief him on what had actually _happened_ in the elevator, Steve trailed after his best friend as the doors opened into the atrium. He fell into step beside Bucky, watching as the woman behind the security desk looked up. He was surprised when Bucky said hello to her by name, earning a smile and a wave as they passed.

When they turned the corner, Bucky’s eyes sought Darcy in the crowd, finding her sitting next to the window at what had become their normal table. Her back was to them, a bright pink hat on her head, with what appeared to be animal ears of some kind. Lips lifting in a smile, Bucky glanced over at Steve, watching the blond’s eyes as they swept over the people in the cafe. “I might have forgot to mention that you were coming with me.”

The click of Steve’s tongue was full of admonishment, and he turned to look at Bucky with a less-than-happy expression on his face. “Bucky.”

“What? It didn’t come up. Besides, you’re just here to shake her hand, say hello, and then be on your way, right?” Bucky didn’t believe for one solitary single second that it was going to be the drive-by greeting that Steve made it seem. He knew his best friend better than that, and now that he was getting to know Darcy better, too, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. Steve had always had a problem with attention, and Darcy could make it feel like you were the only two people on the planet. 

“Right,” Steve agreed with a nod of his head that looked more confident than he felt. He followed behind Bucky, weaving through the other customers before coming to a stop beside a table near the window.

Movement in her peripheral vision lifted Darcy’s gaze from the newspaper, a smile on her face when her eyes landed on Bucky. The smile disappeared altogether when she spotted the man at his side. She slipped from her chair and reached up to yank the headphones from her ears, eyes widening in shock. Heartbeat racing, Darcy did her best to move past the surprise of coming face-to-face with the man she’d somehow managed to avoid for months. “Steve!”

Eyebrows lifting toward his hairline, Steve felt a jolt of surprise speed his pulse. “Darcy?”

Tossing her earbuds onto the table, Darcy reached up to pull the hat from her head, running a hand over the mass of curls and trying for some semblance of nonchalant, but failing hard. “Hi.”

Bucky’s expression tinted with confusion, looking back and forth between the pair. It connected in his brain, their look of familiarity and embarrassment, and he felt some of the air knock out of his chest. It had never occurred to him that the dark haired woman he’d known for months now was the _same_ Darcy that had saved Steve’s virtue and avoided a public relations nightmare for the soldier.

Blinking incredibly fast, brain scrambling for a way to deal with the utter befuddlement she felt, Darcy’s tongue darted out to swipe her lips. “Huh?”

Steve tried his best to wrap his head around the new development, but he still felt thrown. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest before thinking better of it, not wanting to appear indifferent. “I thought you were leaving the country.”

“So did I,” Darcy said, giving him a wan smile, “but then we... didn’t.”

“Oh.” Steve tore his eyes away from Darcy and turned to Bucky. “This is Darcy.”

“I... didn’t know she was _that_ Darcy.”

Holding up a hand, earning their attentions, Darcy frowned. “Wait, why do you keep calling me _that_ Darcy?”

“It’s nothing bad,” Steve said in a rush, not liking the connotations she might take from the lack of explanation, “I just didn’t know _you_ were who, I mean, that _you_ were Bucky’s new friend. The one from the elevator.”

“He told me about you.” When both Steve and Darcy’s attention focused on him, Bucky felt his face even out slightly, not sure he wanted them to know what was going on in his mind at that moment. He remembered the look on Steve’s face the morning after he’d come home from the bar. He’d been happy that his best friend had managed to find someone good. And _safe_. Someone who could bring lightness to Steve’s world. Suddenly it made perfect sense that the person who’d helped his best friend _and_ the person who’d helped him in the elevator were one in the same.

“Oh he _did_ , did he?” Darcy asked, raising an eyebrow and directing it at Steve.

“It’s not like he’s making it seem,” Steve said with a frown, uncertainty coloring his eyes.

“I’m fucking kidding,” Darcy said, still thrown but attempting to pull herself together. Yes, seeing Steve Rogers after missing him for so long was rather abrupt, but there was nothing to do for it now, except soldier on. “Hi. I, uh, live here now.”

Steve laughed softly, nodding as he looked down at the floor. He focused on slowing his heart rate, which had elevated at the sight of the woman he thought he’d never see again. After a moment, he glanced back up at her, lips curling in a remorseful smile as he scratched at the back of his neck. “I guess I never really got your last name.”

Patently ignoring how attractive Steve was when he looked up at her through those ridiculously long lashes - _He’s like fucking Snuffleupagus!_ \- Darcy’s eyes widened when his words filtered to her brain. She looked over at Bucky, hand gesturing through the air like it could erase the unintentional double entendre. “It’s not as bad as he’s making it sound. We didn’t -”

Watching pink begin to tint her cheeks, Steve understood what she was saying and immediately felt his own cheeks heat. “Oh! No, we didn’t. He knows. He knows that we didn’t…”

Watching the two of them, flustered and embarrassed and falling over each other to explain, formed a smirk on Bucky’s face. If he had told Steve about Darcy earlier, this confusion might have been avoided, but there were a lot of things he’d do over if he could. Leaving them standing there, Bucky made his way toward the register.

“Uhhh,” Darcy hummed, stuffing the papers she’d had on the table into her bag. She tried to remind herself that it was just _Steve_. She’d spent an entire night getting to know the blond, and one of the main perks of him opening up to her was that she _wasn’t_ thrown by super heroes. Sure, the fact that she’d thought she’d never see him again had played a part, but that was neither here nor there. 

The table was obviously built for two, but Darcy managed to snag a chair and pull it up for Steve. He took a seat, glancing over his shoulder toward Bucky and the registers. He was not surprised to find his best friend looking right back at him, _something_ lighting his grey storm eyes as he blinked. He turned back to Darcy, watching her put her things away. 

“I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around,” Darcy said as she returned to her seat, giving Steve a smile when he glanced her way.

“I had my schedule rearranged,” Steve explained, as if was enough, “so my mornings are open now.”

“That’s cool.” Despite her words, Darcy felt _no_ amount of cool. She was without cool. She was the exact opposite of cool. If she’d known she’d be coming face-to-face with Steve Rogers, she might have run a brush through her hair, or put on lipstick, or _oh my god I didn’t put on deodorant_! Trying to brush off the awkwardness, Darcy learned onto the table. “I haven’t seen your junk plastered all over the tabloids, so it seems like you’ve had an okay time of things   
lately.”

“If that’s your measure of success,” Steve said with a laugh, watching her grin widen. “I’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“Maybe that’s why I haven’t seen you around.”

Steve looked down at his hands on the table, feeling a bit of the light dim in his eyes as he realized just how long she’d been living in the tower, but hadn’t come to see him. His eyes flicked back up to hers, trying his best to keep his uncertainty contained. “Is it?”

Darcy wasn’t sure why her heart skipped a beat at his question, but she shifted under the weight of his gaze. She might have joked about being able to avoid Steve for as long as she had, but she hadn’t done it deliberately. Fate just had a funny way of bringing people together. Like the elevator. Darcy was pretty sure the elevator was some kind of mystical breach where time and space were suspended and anything could happen. It’s how it felt with Bucky, at least.

There were a few thoughts on Steve’s tongue, but he swallowed them. When he wasn’t sitting right in front of Darcy, he’d take the time to analyze the feelings in his chest, but this wasn’t the time or the place. He’d just planned on saying thanks, shaking a hand, and being on his way. It was odd, then, that Steve found himself wanting to stay.

He’d thought about Darcy a lot the past couple months, but it’d become a moot point. He was here, and she wasn’t, and that’s just how it was. Now, though, when that same inviting smile was pointed his way, he found himself rooted to the spot. Feeling like the silence had stretched on to the point of awkwardness, Steve cleared his throat, watching as she sat up straighter and gave him her entire attention. “I wanted to say thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Darcy replied immediately, gesturing dismissively with her hand. When he gave her a confused expression, she felt a crash of uncertainty. “Wait, _what_ are you thanking me for? That night?”

“I thought nothing happened that night,” Bucky said as he returned to the table, holding in a laugh when Darcy jumped like he’d snuck up on her.

“What? No!” Darcy said, watching as Bucky slid into the seat next to Steve. The smirk on Bucky’s face told her exactly what he’d been doing, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Shut up.”

“Then what _were_ you thanking her for, punk?”

Steve’s expression told Bucky that he wasn’t amused with his needling, but he decided to push through and finish his mission before he got too distracted. “I was thanking you for taking care of Bucky when the elevator got stuck.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, eyebrows furrowing as she took the mug Bucky pushed in her direction, casting her uncertain eyes toward the table top. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“See?” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow at Steve. “What did I tell you?”

“You said she didn’t like taking compliments. This isn’t a compliment. It’s a thank you.”

“Not sure it makes a difference.”

Darcy watched the back and forth between the two men, feeling like she was only getting half of the conversation. “You guys talked about this?”

“In hypotheticals,” Steve explained. “I didn’t know you were... _you_ , when we talked about it.”

“So you expected to, what? Just say ‘hi,’ a quick ‘thanks!’ then be on your way?”

Bucky shook his head as he brought his mug to his lips. “I told him, but he wouldn’t believe me.”

The look on Bucky’s face forced a snort from Darcy, and she tried to imagine how the meeting would have gone if it’d been with anyone else. She’d gotten kind of used to Steve’s face, after studying it for so many hours the second time they’d met. and she could tell there was more weighing on his shoulders than just needing to thank her for helping his friend. “I did what I hope any decent, empathetic person would do. I’m just glad I was able to help.”

“You did more than what normal people would have done.”

Darcy’s lips turned down as she shook her head. With Steve’s eyes on her, she felt a stab of regret that she hadn’t sought out him earlier. And now he was thanking her for something she didn’t feel was a big deal. She had a problem taking compliments (when they weren’t from Jane, Erik, or Thor), but an even bigger problem having importance placed on something she wouldn’t have thought twice about. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” Steve said, keeping his gaze steady, “not to me.”

Fidgeting in her seat, never particularly happy to have all the attention on her, Darcy attempted to deflect the conversation away from her. “So, anything big happen since the last time we chatted?”

It was obvious she was uncomfortable with the concept of Steve thanking her, and Bucky felt vindication spread through his chest. She’d reacted like he thought she would, and being able to predict her predilections filled him with something like pride. It was one thing to be trained to analyze the way people would react, but the fact that he _knew_ Darcy was a warm and welcoming thought. Eyes flicking toward Steve, he waited for the blond to answer the question.

There was something in Darcy’s gaze, something he couldn’t put his finger on, but Steve didn’t feel like pushing the issue. He’d thanked her, just like he’d wanted, and he didn’t have it in him to make her any more uncomfortable. “Nothing to write home about,” he said finally, giving her a smile.

“Besides the fact that you’re now living together,” Bucky added, taking a sip from his mug. When both Darcy and Steve turned to look at him, he shrugged his shoulders. “Technically. It’s surprising you hadn’t run into each other before today.”

Darcy wasn’t sure if Bucky was deliberately trying to make this more awkward, but she gave him a slightly dirty look before focusing back on Steve. Just like she’d always done, she reasoned that it was entirely possible to live in a building with someone and _not_ know every person that worked there. The amount of people that worked for _Stark Industries_ was insane, and when you added in the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and assorted Avenger-related personnel, it wasn’t a stretch to say they just hadn’t run into each other yet.

What was she really supposed to have done? Hang around in the elevator until he showed up? _Fuck_ , was that what she should have done? She hadn’t known for certain what floor he lived on (though she could have assumed it’d been near Bucky), and just because she’d become friends with Bucky didn’t mean that Steve automatically came along with the soldier. She’d built the basis of friendship with both of them independently, and part of her was happy it’d happened that way. “Well, you know. Ships passing in the night and what not.”

Bucky watched uncertainty crash behind Darcy’s eyes, and just like she’d done for him, he felt the need to help her navigate the conversation, if only to ease the weight in her gaze. “You’re in the lab a lot and don’t keep normal hours.”

Giving the soldier a grateful grin, Darcy nodded her head. “Very true.”

“What do you do up there?” Steve wasn’t sure why his question had made her wince, but he watched her blink apologies at him.

“Technically she’s not at liberty to discuss her work for _Stark Industries_ ,” Bucky recited, like he’d practiced it, “because she signed an NDA and would be subject to legal action for breaking the contract.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at his best friend. “Did you even try to look her up in the system?” The look Bucky gave him confirmed that _of course_ he’d attempted to look her up in the personnel files, but hadn’t found anything.

This time it was Darcy’s turn to look incredulous. “Wait, you tried to look me up in the computer? Why?”

Bucky wasn’t sure how to explain without it sounding sinister, but he did his best. “... you were an uncertain variable.”

The grin that blossomed on Darcy’s face was a bit incongruous, but she didn’t care as she leaned forward and patted the hand he still had wrapped around his mug. “Awww, that’s almost sweet in a way.”

Bucky snorted, her skin warm where it touched his. “Only _you_ would find researching someone’s identity ‘sweet’.”

“That’s why you keep me around, right?”

The playful spark in Darcy’s eyes was enough to make Bucky’s lips go slanted. “It’s one of the reasons, yeah.”

Rolling her eyes at the smirk on his face, Darcy turned back to Steve. “I don’t know how much longer it’ll stay a secret, though. Agents Romanoff and Barton stopped by a little bit ago.”

“Why?” Bucky wasn’t sure _why_ , but he didn’t like the idea of people just popping into the lab uninvited. If what Darcy and her astrophysicist did was so important, it seemed like a security risk to allow unauthorized people on the floor. On the heels of that thought were two more. 

One? She was in Avenger-related floors, which meant Avengers-related individuals were allowed. It was how he’d gotten in, after all.

Two? There was probably no way to keep anything secret from Natasha Romanoff, so what was the point of trying?

“Do you want to reason they _gave_ me, or the real reason?”

“ _Both_.”

Laughing at how the word had fallen from both Steve and Bucky’s mouths in perfect unison, Darcy leaned forward on the table. “They _said_ it was because of the flyer I put in the elevator -”

“That was you?” When Darcy’s hazel eyes swung toward him, Steve could practically feel her attention heating his skin. “Tony and I thought it was Barton.”

Darcy shook her head. “Nope, it was me. With a little input from Banner.”

Steve sat back in his seat, surprised by her answer. Not that she’d have come up with an idea about bringing everyone together, but that it seemed like everyone _else_ knew she was living in the tower and he’d been the only one in the dark. Not deliberately. At least he _hoped_ it hadn’t been deliberately. There were a lot of employees in the tower, and it wasn’t a stretch to reason that they’d just missed each other.

… except that Darcy knew he lived there and hadn’t sought him out. The two times he’d been in her presence, they’d seemed to click. If she’d been living near him for months, why hadn’t she come to see him? “Wow,” he hummed, watching her blink at him. “You’ve already met the whole team.”

Uncertain about the tone of Steve’s voice, Darcy convinced herself that it hadn’t been disappointment in the tone, but surprise. _Whatever you need to tell yourself_ , Darcy groused in her head. “Yeah, pretty much.”

He’d begun to reach for his drink, which was slowly growing cold, before Steve sat up straight again, his eyes widening. “Does that mean _you’re_ the one who tasered Thor?”

Pulled from his thoughts, which had been analyzing the interactions by his table mates, Bucky looked over sharply at Darcy. “You tasered a god?”

Darcy lifted her chin. “Yes I did.”

“ _And_ gave him the idea of putting New Asgard under the ocean?”

The look on Bucky’s face made Darcy’s eyes narrow dangerously. She reached out and pinched his upper arm, his look of pain that crossed his face completely unbelievable. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Bucky said, chuckling at he shook his head. 

“But I know what you were _thinking_ ,” Darcy growled, though her lips twitched upward at his expression.

Steve’s gaze was pulled between the two of them, noting the way they smiled at each other, the way their voices changed when they were needling or joking. It had been a long time since Steve had seen Bucky’s eyes flash with humor, or seen him smile so much. Things had been rough recently, but ever since the elevator fiasco, he’d seen confidence begin to fill his best friend again. 

Steve tried to remember the last time _he’d_ felt the slightest bit unburdened, and all he could think of was duct tape, horrible mixed drinks, and a rushed kiss on a fire escape. If he’d felt lighter after spending time with Darcy, it reasoned that Bucky would, too. He could still feel the sting of disappointment over the fact that she hadn’t reached out to him, but if it meant she’d been spending time with Bucky and making him smile, it seemed worth it.

“The Under the Sea Asgard wasn’t real, as least I didn’t _think_ it was real,” Darcy said with a disbelieving shake of her head. “It was just an offhand comment. I never expected him to take my serious. I mean, how would it even _work_?”

“It better work, because it’s really happening.”

Darcy’s jaw dropped. “ _Really_?!”

“Yeah,” Steve said, the incredulous expression on Darcy’s face making his lips quirk up, “that’s why I wasn’t here when…” He watched Darcy’s eyes dim the lightest bit, and Steve felt a need to rush forward and erase the doubt in her eyes. “... when the elevator got stuck. I was with Thor and Tony in Wakanda.”

“No shit?”

Steve laughed, spinning the mug in his hands, glancing down at the tabletop. “No shit.”

“Wow,” Darcy hummed, sitting back in her chair, a wistful look in her eyes. “I bet it’s so pretty there. In Wakanda, I mean.”

“It is,” Bucky confirmed with a nod. “I tended after a group of goats, and -”

Darcy’s jaw dropped. “You had _goats_!? How has this not come up in conversation before?”

Bucky smiled, appreciating her enthusiasm. “A group is goats is called a ‘tribe,’ at least that’s what one of the little boys in the village told me. Now that I think about it, he might have been lying.”

“You couldn’t tell a child was lying? And you call yourself observant?”

“Observant enough to know you wore that same shirt on Monday.”

Darcy reached out to pinch him again, laughing because she knew he barely felt the sting but that he let her do it in the first place. “Alright, alright, tell me more about your tribe of goats.”

Since Steve already knew everything about Bucky’s goats - _literally everything_ \- he took the moment to study Bucky and Darcy. The scientist’s assistant was leaned on the table, chin in the palm of her hand, giving Bucky all the attention in the world. Her eyes stayed heavy on Bucky as he spoke, but when the former-soldier said something funny, she’d sit back in her chair and turn to Steve with a smile, including him in the conversation even though he hadn’t spoken for a few moments.

It was very familiar, as she’d had that laser-pointed attention zeroed in on him before. Steve knew how it felt to watch Darcy hang on your every word. It was a powerful feeling, being blessed by that focus, and as she threw back her head and laughed, he found himself laughing right along with her. Not because he totally got her joke, but because it was impossible _not to_. He watched Bucky light up from the attention, and part of Steve’s chest unclenched with worry. Here, in the cafe with Darcy, Bucky looked more like himself than he had in months. It was intoxicating, the change he could see, and he studied Darcy’s face, appreciating the shifts he could see since the last time he’d been around her.

When Bucky wrapped up his story, Darcy sat back in her chair, tapping the table with her fingers. “That sounds amazing.”

“It was,” Bucky agreed.

“But you left and came home?”

Bucky looked over at Steve, a blush of uneasiness in his storm grey gaze. He still wasn’t one-hundred percent positive what the magician had told Steve was true, but he knew Steve wouldn’t have brought them back stateside without a valid reason. His best friend’s eyes caught and held his for several seconds before he turned back to Darcy. “We got credible information that made us come home.”

The expression on Darcy’s face fell a bit. “Is that why you had to have all the hearings and interviews?” When they both nodded, a thread of pique turned her gaze. “That’s really hard. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Like things weren’t already hard enough on the two of you as it was.”

Shaking his head, Stee shrugged a shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“It’s _not_ fine,” Darcy said with feeling. “I read some of those transcripts. They were out of line. After everything the two of you have done for the country. If they’d’ve…” 

Darcy trailed off, feeling her shoulders go tense with anger. What happened to them wasn’t fair, and the way they’d come after the two of them in the media filled her with irritation. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, working on shedding the useless indignation because there was nothing she could do about it now. She released the tension, dropping her shoulders and looking up at the two of them with a smile.

Bucky was used to the way Darcy handled herself, but he looked over at Steve and watched his best friend’s eyes follow the journey she’d gone on. He’d seen her deflate her anger like a balloon, and just like _he’d_ been, Steve looked over at him with absolute befuddlement. He gave Steve the smallest of eyebrow raises, as if to say ‘ _yeah, I saw. How the hell does she do that?_ ’

Steve wasn’t sure what he’d just watched. It wasn’t like Natasha, who could compartmentalize her emotions and slap on a smile, or Banner, who would bottle it up and use it to fuel his shift to Hulk. It was a singular experience watching Darcy swallow the anger and dissipate it before she _chose_ to light her eyes and lift her lips. He’d never seen anything like it.

Darcy reached out and patted both of their arms softly before sitting back, a smile on her face. “I don’t want to focus on bad stuff. It’s too early for that whole business. Let’s talk _good_ things. For example: do you really think people would show up for a movie thing?”

“I would,” Steve said immediately, with feeling.

She gave Steve a hopeful expression. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve assured her. “You mentioned a few that night at your place and I don’t think I’ve seen half of them.”

Darcy couldn’t help the turn of her lips at Steve’s use of ‘that night’ when referring to their marathon gab session, the warmth filling her chest with happiness. It was funny, and adorable, and the flash of satisfaction left her reeling. “Okay, so maybe it _is_ worth it. We’d just have to figure out where to host. There’s a lounge on our level, but I don’t think it’d be big enough.”

Grinning at Darcy’s use of ‘we’, as if they were now organizing as a unit, Steve tried to work out the problem. “Let’s see. It’d be the three of us.”

“And Jane,” Darcy added.

“Of course. Then there’d be Banner, Stark, Barton, and Romanoff.”

“And possibly Laura?” Darcy asked, her voice rising in uncertainty. “Barton’s… wife?”

Steve’s eyes widened at the name. “They mentioned Laura?” Her nod was enough, and Steve digested the information that Natasha and Clint had felt secure enough to mention Laura in the first place. “Wow. Yeah. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.”

Not sure why he looked so impressed, Darcy leaned forward on the table. “I take it she’s not living the Avenger’s lifestyle?”

“Not so much.”

“She’s gotta be a saint to put up with Barton,” Bucky added, though he’d never met Laura in person.

Unsure who and what connected them all together, Darcy shook her head. “One of these mornings you guys are going to have to explain how all of you work.”

Steve shifted in his seat, hands returning to his empty mug. He really had planned on just thanking her and leaving, but now that he knew _that_ Darcy was also _his_ Darcy, he couldn’t seem to make his feet move away. He needed to, though, because the last thing he wanted to do was derail the healing Bucky’d done at Darcy’s side. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Darcy’s eyebrows knit together at the look of Steve’s face and the tone in his voice. “Impose? Are you serious?”

Bucky gave him a similar look. “Punk. Come on.”

Shrugging his shoulders and feeling both of their gazes like lasers on his skin, Steve turned the mug again. “You guys have a thing here, and -”

“A _thing_?” Darcy said, stressing the word with more disbelief than was necessary. Steve Rogers was cute as hell when he looked out of sorts. She’d loved pushing him before, and it appeared he hadn’t changed in the slightest.

“A friendship thing,” Steve finished lamely, ignoring the crooked smirk that had taken residence on Bucky’s face.

“Are you saying you’re _not_ my friend, Rogers?” When he looked over at her sharply, Darcy gave him her best offended expression.

“ _No!_ No, that’s not what -”

While it was fucking adorable to watch him stumble, a soft pink tinting his cheeks, Darcy looked over to Bucky with a smile, seeing that he was enjoying the show just as much as she was. There was a glint in Bucky’s gaze, something more like comfort, and the blush of enjoyment in his eyes sped her pulse faster. “Buck, tell this man that he’s perfectly fine joining us at the buttcrack of dawn, should his schedule allow.”

Bucky turned toward Steve. “Steve, you are perfectly -”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve groused, though he couldn’t seem to be upset at the turn of events, “I heard what she said, jerk. If you’re sure -”

“We’re sure,” Darcy said immediately, feeling Bucky’s approving nod at her side. “5:30. Bright and early.”

The smile on Steve’s face was small, but real. “I think I can handle that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a habit of saying I'll do something, then push it off.  
> I'll do it later.  
> I'll do it tomorrow.  
> I'll do it when things slow down.  
> From personal experience, things _never_ slow down.  
> Tomorrow will be here before you know it.  
> Why wait until later if you can do it now?  
> The future you is cheering you on, right along side me right now!  
> (Dammmmmn do you look awesome in the future!)  
> *  
>   
> Figured it was time to put up, or shut up, so this one's to you, Mr. Rogers.  
> America's ass gave me the confidence to post this.  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> Me (Left), Marc (Middle), & Dan (Right)
> 
> Showing pride for OUR (Captain) America.


	22. Fine By Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve have a conversation about Darcy. Tony and Steve carpool. Darcy takes the boys up to meet Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Is July flying by for anyone else, or is it just me?  
> Things are going to pick up steam here shortly.  
> Honestly? This story is flowing on its own and I _love it_!  
> I hope all you wonderful people like it too!  
> Thank you 3000 for the awesome likes/kudos/comments/reblogs!  
> <3<3<3  
>   
> 

_Who are you_  
_I can see what I need_  
_I can dream realistically_  
_I knew that this was different from the start_  
_And it seems that every time we're eye to eye_  
_I can find another piece of you that I don't wanna lose_  
_And it's never easy, Darling, believe me_  
_I'm as skeptical as you_  
_I'm just saying it's fine by me if you never leave_  
_And we can live like this forever_  
_It's fine by me_  


**Fine By Me - Andy Grammar**

“It’s kind of a small world, isn’t it?”

Bucky looked over at Steve as he pulled the tape from around his fists, unrolling it into a ball then tossing it into the trash. There was a thoughtful look on Steve’s face, and Bucky’s chest ached with tension. Steve had been building up to this conversation since they’d come upstairs, but Bucky knew better than to push his best friend before he was ready.

Steve had always been the kind of person who needed to work things out in his head, who needed a little time and space to get his thoughts in order, but it’d taken Steve longer than Bucky had expected. Bucky sat on the mat, grabbed his towel, and wiped the sweat from his forehead while glancing up at Steve. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Steve said, sitting heavily on one of the benches that dotted the gym, “what are the odds that the woman who saved me also saved you?”

Bucky sat back, one corner of his mouth turning up. “Feels like there’s a difference of importance that needs to be pointed out.”

“Sure, I know that,” Steve said, though his thoughts weren’t so clear. It was obvious that Darcy’s help with Bucky had been heads and shoulders above what she’d done for him, but that didn’t change the fact that she _had_ helped him. She’d saved Steve, too, just in a different way. The two nights he’d spent in Darcy’s company had reassured him, and proved there were people worth getting to know outside the walls of the tower. It’d opened up possibilities, and that was no small feat. “It’s just kind of funny.”

For once, Bucky couldn’t decipher the look on Steve’s face, and a flash of uncertainty curled in his chest. “Funny how?”

Realizing he wasn’t making much sense, to Bucky _or_ himself, Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just… what are the odds?”

“It feels like you’ve got more to say, punk.”

“I don’t. Not really.” When he glanced down at Bucky, he could tell his words had not convinced the other man in the slightest. He fidgeted on the bench, fingers curling against the wood as Bucky stretched his arms above his head. “... why didn’t you tell me about her?” When Bucky’s gaze looked sharply in his direction, Steve tried to school the expression on his face. “You’ve been seeing her almost every morning for months and you never said anything.”

Feeling like they were having a much bigger conversation in the words they _weren’t_ saying, Bucky stretched his calf on the mat, blinking up at Steve. “Didn’t seem like it was something I needed to tell you.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not what I meant,” Steve said, hoping his best friend understood what he was saying. It wasn’t about needing to know everyone Bucky interacted with on a normal day (which was already tiny), but wanting to know about someone who’d, apparently, had a large effect on his best friend’s life. 

“It’s just…” This time, it was Bucky who was struggling with how to get his thoughts out. He hadn’t deliberately hid the fact that he’d made friends with someone, it just hadn’t made much of a difference before. Now, though, with time and hindsight, Darcy was bigger than just some random woman in the elevator. “She’s different. I didn’t say anything because she was just this girl on the elevator who smiled and tried to say hello. I wasn’t ready yet, but she just... kept trying. I don’t know why she kept trying.”

That was, perhaps, the reason she’d been able to break through his cracks. Most people would have just ignored someone who’d brushed them off. Darcy had refused to give up, and it was that refusal that made Bucky find the strength to respond to her friendly advances. “After a while, it felt weird _not_ to say ‘hi’ back, and that lead to actual conversations.”

Steve followed the emotions flitting across Bucky’s face. It had been a while since his best friend had talked this much about anything, let alone some _one_ , and now that Steve knew _who_ , he wanted to know the _why_. “What’d you talk about?”

“We listened to music a lot.”

“In the elevator?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, a soft snort of air as he thought about the device she never seemed to be without. “She has these earbuds she wears, and they’re almost always in her ear, like she needs some kind of soundtrack to her day, and after a while I asked what she listened to. I didn’t like a lot of it, but some things were okay.”

“But you never met outside the elevator?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. Just in the mornings.”

Steve nodded, glancing down at the mats, his mind working. The two times he’d been with Darcy, he’d found himself drawn in by her easy smiles and playful nature. She’d been like a blinking light he couldn’t ignore. He remembered what it’d felt like being next to her, warm and calm and open, so he wasn’t surprised in the slightest that she’d worked that same magic on Bucky.

He felt the burn of disappointment, though, remembering that she’d lived one floor above him for _months_ , but hadn’t come to see him or say hello. Was it possible he was putting too much emphasis on the night they’d shared? The easy conversation and alluring friendship? Was he reading into things too heavily?

Bucky could see self-doubt color Steve’s blue eyes, the thinning of his lips, and since he knew his best friend better than anyone, he could tell there was something eating at him about the situation. “If I’d known it was the same Darcy -”

“No, Buck, it’s not that. There have to be thousands of people named Darcy in New York. How would you have known?”

Despite Steve’s words, Bucky still felt like he owed _someone_ an apology. At the thought, his lips twitched upward, remembering the rule Darcy had laid down about apologizing.

Steve’s gaze stayed on Bucky’s face, watching a smile light his face, something in his eyes sparking. It looked and felt familiar, and it hit Steve hard because he’d _worn_ that expression before, after spending an entire night talking with Darcy about anything and everything. It appeared to be one of her super powers, and though it made no sense, Steve felt a flash of gratitude. Whatever she’d done had caused a marked change in his best friend, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be jealous.

On the heels of that thought came another: If Darcy had helped Bucky, maybe it would be a bad thing for him to join them in the mornings. Of course Steve _wanted_ to go, but despite their assurances that it’d be fine, he didn’t want to derail the progress that he’d seen Bucky make. He hoped that, between Darcy and therapy, Bucky was on the road he needed to heal. “If you don’t want me to be there with you guys -”

“ _Steve_.”

His name from Bucky’s lips was an entire novel, and Steve grinned softly. “I don’t want to impose.” The glare leveled in his direction was answer enough. “I just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Bucky shook his head from side to side. Almost eighty years later and Steve was still the same shy, unassuming, strong man he’d fallen in love with when they were children. Steve felt like his presence alone was a disruption, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. Now that he knew Darcy Lewis was _that_ Darcy, it made things crystalize in his mind.

Darcy had been the reason behind the smile Steve had worn the morning he’d returned with wet shoes, wearing the same clothes he’d left in. That whole conversation replayed in his head. He’d told Steve that he deserved someone bright, and shiny, and Darcy was that and _more_. No one else had made Steve smile like that, not for a while. 

Not like _she_ had. 

In a way, it was poetic. 

When Bucky had talked to Natasha about everything, she’d clarified that whoever Steve got close to would be a fixture in _his_ life, too. That it needed to be someone they were _both_ comfortable around. 

He felt more comfortable around Darcy Lewis than almost anyone else. 

“She’s just a friend, punk,” Bucky finally said after a moment of quiet. “It’s not a big deal.”

“But it kind of is, isn’t it? She was there for you in that elevator. You said she made you feel safe.”

Bucky nodded. “She did.”

“And you’ve been better since you started talking with her?”

“I have.” 

“So it’s more than that, then.” It didn’t appear Bucky was ready to acknowledge it just yet, so Steve let it drop. The knowledge that Darcy was helping was more than enough for Steve to feel better about the situation. In the future, when he wasn’t shocked by her being there in the first place, Steve would have to analyze his own feelings on the matter, but that would be for another time. 

Coming to his feet, Bucky leveled a look at Steve. “Don’t make it into a thing, Steve.”

Steve looked at Bucky with innocent eyes. “I won’t.”

“You already are. I can see it. Even now. Right here.” Bucky pointed at a wrinkle between Steve’s eyebrows, laughing when the blond swatted at his hand. Before he could think of a reason not to, Bucky darted forward and pressed his lips to Steve’s. When he pulled back, he saw barely contained heat, and felt an echoing flame in his chest. Smirk growing crooked, feeling more like himself than he had in awhile, Bucky held out his hand toward Steve. “We’re sweaty. We should shower.”

“Or we could get even more sweaty,” Steve offered, blinking up at Bucky through his eyelashes.

As he’d always been, Bucky felt like his knees would give out at the beauty of Steven Grant Rogers. He pulled on Steve’s hand, making the blond smack against the front of his body. He watched Steve’s irises widen, watched the pulse beat beneath his neck, and his own heart raced at their nearness. “I like the way your brain thinks, punk.”

Steve gripped the seat handle tightly as Tony pushed the car faster, flying around a corner, the centrifugal force pushing his body closer to the door. He was positive Tony was speeding close to thirty over the limit, but he kept his comments to himself. They’d been working so well together lately, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause tension by pointing out how incredibly illegal Tony’s driving was. When the engineer cleared his throat, Steve glanced in his direction.

“I wish I had good news for you, Cap, but at least I don’t have bad news.”

Steve frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Your desire to help people,” Tony said, eyes darting to look at Steve before pointing back to the road. “You said you wanted to move on it ASAP.”

Sitting back in his seat, Steve’s eyebrows lifted. It’d only been a week since they’d had the conversation, and Steve hadn’t expected Tony to start working on it so quickly. The genius billionaire always seemed to have so many coals in the fire, and it surprised Steve that Tony had prioritized _his_ project over others. 

Steve needed to retrain his mind; for years they’d referred to each other as ‘family,’ but it was clear now that ‘family’ was a hazy definition for the group of people he’d fought side by side with. Getting to know Tony better was a lesson in just how little Steve really knew about the engineer. He really hoped they were growing closer as a team, and as friends. “Thank you,” he said finally, glancing over at Tony to see the man’s eyebrows raise. “Thank you for helping me get started.”

“Sure,” Tony said with an errant wave of his hand, “it’s not a big thing so let’s not make it one. I’ll let you know when things get rolling. They say ‘no news is good news,’ but I wish I had more to give you, Cap.” 

“No, Tony, the fact that you’re helping me –“

“That’s what we’re supposed to be doing now, right? Helping each other. Olive branches and what not.”

“I know, but you didn’t _have_ to help me with this. Thank you.” Steve let the words hang in the air, as neither of them seemed to be in a rush to fill the silence, and he pointed his eyes to the trees streaming by as they raced through the forest. As he sat there, Steve’s mind began to wander, and just like it had all week, his thoughts turned toward the woman who’d saved both him _and_ Bucky, and who was now living in the tower.

Steve still wasn’t sure what to make of Darcy’s silence. The night they’d stayed up talking had rewound in his head over and over, and Steve had been looking for any miscue, any mistake, _anything_ that would explain why she wouldn’t come and seek him out when she found out she would be staying in the states, _let alone_ in the same building.

“Something on your mind?”

Pulled from his inner dialogue, Steve looked over at Tony, surprised that the other man had been able to read his expression so easily. Choosing his words carefully, he did his best to keep the conversation light. “There’s a lab on the floor above ours. I didn’t know you moved someone in.”

“That’s a little odd, considering it was _because_ of you. At least in a roundabout type way.”

Steve’s lips turned down at the edges. “What do you mean?”

“When you and Mr. Wizard broke into my house -”

“- we didn’t -”

“- Strange said something about Jane Foster. Astrophysicist. He said she was going to help, but didn’t say how.”

The frown on Steve’s face only grew. “So you just brought her on staff?”

Letting out a trumpet of air, Tony veered to the right. He directed the car to the side of the road then threw it into park. He turned his entire body toward Steve, realizing this was a conversation they _shouldn’t_ have while driving. Pulling the sunglasses from his face, he gave Steve an exasperated expression. “Strange found you on foreign soil and transported you via orange sparks to my living room. Had you ever met him before?”

Steve could tell where this was going and a sigh slipped past his lips, looking down toward the floor. “No.”

“So he shows up, says ‘oh, hey, let’s travel through a portal,’ and you went willingly. _You_ brought him to _me_ , not the other way around.”

“I know that, Tony.”

“Do you?” The bite of Tony’s words seemed to fill the air, “because it kind of sounds like you’re chastising me for believing him when you did the exact same thing.”

“I’m not chastising. I’m just asking. That’s all.”

Though Tony’s expression showed he didn’t believe that, he slipped his glasses back on. “The magician said she was important, so I hired her. Her background check checked out.”

While he wanted to believe Tony, part of Steve couldn’t accept that _anyone_ was completely safe. It was hard to have that nugget of doubt in his stomach when Tony was _right_. When he’d travelled with Dr. Strange to see Tony, he’d put his faith in someone. All Tony was asking was for that trust to be extended to him as well. “And Darcy?”

Tony cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing softly as he took in Steve’s tone of voice and body language. “Foster refused to come without her.” When Steve stayed silent, his blue gaze pulled toward the window and the sights on the other side of the glass, Tony could tell there was something more on the soldier’s mind. “I know, and I agree. It’s _so_ annoying how someone can demand that their friend be included in all the fun.”

Giving in to the bait, Steve rolled his eyes, directing a glare in Tony’s direction.

“Hey,” Tony said, readjusting in his seat, “all I’m saying is that they’re here, working on _something_ , and that something is supposed to help us in the future. I’m giving them pretty much free-reign over what they do up there.”

If Tony was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, Steve couldn’t really do anything less. Strange had made him believe that the war was coming, _soon_ , and since Steve had trusted him, it was only right he extended the same toward Tony. “Does her work make any sense to you?”

“I’ve got nine PhDs -”

A wrinkle appeared between Steve’s eyebrows. “I thought it was seven.”

“ - but astrophysics is not one of them.”

“Okay,” Steve said with a nod, “but why keep them secret?”

Tony’s snort filled the car. “Oh, let’s see. The _last_ time we had someone life-changing on staff, an evil robot used that information to attack them _and_ killed one of my best friends. It seemed safer keeping them off the books. No way to track them down if they don’t exist.”

Memories of Ultron flashed through Steve’s head, and he sat back in his chair. One part of Tony’s argument stuck in Steve’s throat, and right when he was going to ask the question, he realized he already knew the answer. The best friend Tony had lost was _Jarvis_ , who had been all but sacrificed in order to neutralize the threat. Tony’s worries were well founded, and Steve dipped his head in defeat. “You’re right. I get it. It was just a shock.”

“Why?”

“I’ve met her before.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Foster?”

“No. Darcy.”

“Lewis?”

“Yeah. Darcy Lewis.” Steve could feel Tony’s dark eyes on him, like an itch on his skin, and he didn’t like the amused look in the engineer’s gaze. “What?”

“Interesting.” Tony shifted the back to drive, glancing over his shoulder as he pulled back onto the road. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lips going crooked, Tony shook his head. “Nothing, Cap. It’s just nice that you made a friend.”

“Tony.”

Tony shrugged his shoulders, casting an unrepentant look at the soldier to his right as he began driving again. “Hey, it’s a good thing. You centenarians are brave for putting yourself out there and risking rejection.”

Now certain he shouldn’t have said anything, Steve rolled his eyes again, reaching for the handle when Tony took a tight turn too quickly. “Mmmmhmm, laugh it up.”

A week later, Bucky and Steve had barely taken a step into the coffee shop before Darcy was standing in front of them, a large smile on her face. Lips lifting in response to her expression, Bucky tried to figure out what was causing the grin. His eyes lost some of their brightness when he realized she hadn’t unpacked and was carrying a drink holder with four cups in it. “What’s wrong?”

“‘ _What’s wrong?_ ’ he says,” Darcy said with a roll of her eyes, watching Steve’s lips go crooked. “Why does something have to be wrong? I just thought it’d be nice to do something different. You boys up for a field trip?”

Steve’s gaze flicked toward the windows showing the street, taking in the sight of snow whipping between the large buildings, making nearly white-out conditions. “It’s pretty cold out there for you.”

“For me?” When both he and Steve shared a look, Darcy let out a soft laugh. “Right. I guess the cold wouldn’t be as bad for you two. Well, my idea was an ‘in house’ field trip anyway. Bucky’s seen the lab, and now that just _anyone_ can barge in, I was thinking -”

“I’d love to see it.”

Steve’s words were immediate, and heart felt, and Darcy couldn’t help the way her grin brightened at his words. “Yeah?”

“Sure. I guess we never really got into what you’re actually researching,” Steve said, seeing Bucky look at him in his peripheral vision, a slanted smirk on the other man’s face. 

“Well then,” Darcy said, holding the drink carrier out toward Bucky, who took it with a roll of his eyes. Twining her arm with Steve’s - though this was harder since he had a good six inches on her - Darcy let him lead her back into the tower’s atrium. “Let me introduce you to all our machines, which are worth more than any money I’d _ever_ be able to make on my own.”

“Thought you said you weren’t in the work for the money,” Bucky said at their backs.

“Nope,” Darcy said, glancing back over her shoulder and giving Bucky a smile, “just the glory.”

Steve could practically feel their warmness sliding over his skin. The only other person he’d seen Bucky be this comfortable around was Natasha. He knew why Bucky and Natasha were familiar, but the ease Bucky had with Darcy felt deep as well. 

It made sense, considering what she’d done for him in that elevator, and Steve couldn’t help looking to his right at the woman whose arm was wrapped in his. Her hazel eyes were just as bright and expressive as he remembered, and he had the ghost feeling of her toes being shoved under his thigh to keep them warm. “Will we get to meet Dr. Foster on this field trip?”

Darcy let out a breath then turned to look up at Steve. “Oh. Yeah. I should prepare you. Jane in the morning can be… well, let’s just say that it’s a special time. If she doesn’t say anything, don’t take it personally. She just gets _really_ focused when she’s working on something.”

“I know the type.” When both Bucky and Darcy looked over at him with raised eyebrows, Steve shrugged a shoulder softly. “I’ve worked pretty closely with scientists in the past.” The snort that Bucky issued was met with a soft glare. “I mean _after_ the serem. I worked nearly hand-in-hand with -”

Steve’s words froze on his tongue. He’d been about to mention how often he’d worked beside Howard Stark, but when he looked over at Bucky, he couldn’t bring himself to say the name and ruin their entire morning. “I just mean that I know my way around a lab and the people who work in them, but I’ll hold my judgment until the end of the tour.”

The elevator doors opened and Darcy _reluctantly_ pulled her arm from Steve’s as all three made their way inside. After punching the button for her and Jane’s floor, she looked to her left so she could see Bucky, who was, for some reason, looking right back at her with a smirk on his face. She shook her head. “Shut up.”

“What? I didn’t say anything.” 

When Steve looked over at him, Bucky just shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his lips. Eyebrows furrowing, he looked down at Darcy. “Am I missing something?”

“She thinks the elevator is magical,” Bucky answered, seeing Darcy turn to glare at him while he looked straight ahead with a grin on his face.

“Hey! That was said in confidence!”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing’s sacred if it’s funny enough.”

The trumpet of offense from Darcy filled the elevator car, and she reached up to swat at Bucky’s arm. She wasn’t prepared for the rebound, though, and when Bucky pushed her off, she stumbled straight into Steve. His hands managed to keep her upright, and she blinked up at him in surprise. “I never said magical,” Darcy blurted out, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. “I don’t believe in magic.”

“There’s a wizard who can travel through orange sparks who would beg to differ.” The look of confusion on Darcy’s face left Bucky chuckling and he knocked his shoulders into hers again.

Steve watched the back and forth between the two with a soft look on his face, trying to school it when Darcy glanced over at him. He’d never seen Bucky this tactile with someone, at least not since before the train in Germany, and the playful way Darcy was with Bucky seemed to bring the other man out of his shell. It might have been because it was just the three of them and he didn’t need to feel on guard, but Steve wasn’t sure that’s all it was.

When Darcy was pushed back against his side, Steve pointed narrowed eyes at the pair. “If you two don’t stop it, I’m going to turn this elevator around.”

Darcy laughed at the tone in Steve’s voice, then turned an accusing gaze toward Bucky. “Yeah! You should respect your elders!”

Bucky’s expression was one of incredulousness. “... I’m older than he is.”

“Really?” Not willing to just take Bucky’s word for it, Darcy looked to Steve for confirmation. The blond was smiling softly, and gave her a nod of his head. Pushing past the surprise, she redirected her gaze toward Bucky. “So then, really, Steve and I should get up to some shenanigans to put the power back in the right hands.”

“Are you saying you want to be in my hands?”

Darcy’s laugh rang through the elevator, and Steve couldn’t stop from joining. Bucky had always been quick witted, and it appeared Darcy was more than up for the challenge of bringing him down a peg. Seeing Bucky laughing and joking was enough to lift his spirits, having missed the sound for far too long. It was still surprising to hear, but the woman standing between them seemed to be able to coax it out with just a smile, or a few unassuming words. Whatever the reason, Steve found himself mentally thanking her for the lightness he’d seen return to Bucky’s grey eyes.

Feeling like her cheeks were going to crack with all the smiling and laughing she’d already done that morning, Darcy was the first one off the elevator. She turned back to Steve and Bucky, waving an expressive arm through the air. “Welcome to the heavily lauded, completely penetratable, secret-but-not-so-secret mad scientist’s lab. You’re entering Foster Lewis Cloud Lines airspace and are subject to all rules and regulations. Keep your arms and legs inside -”

Freezing, Darcy turned to look down the hall and the closed door that led to the lab. She could make out the muffled sounds of a Queen song. The fact that Jane was listening to Queen this early was _not_ a good sign. Face losing some of it’s light, she directed a worried expression to the men following her. “Okay, we have to be caref -”

_I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky_  
_Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity_  
_I'm a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva_  
_I'm gonna go, go, go_  
_There's no stopping me_

Darcy’s words stopped when she heard the shattering of glass. “ _Oh my god!_ ”

When Darcy took off in a run, panic in her steps, Bucky tossed the drink carrier onto one of the benches lining the hall and chased after her and Steve. The trio skidded into the lab, looking for any sign of danger.

Darcy tried to make sense of the scene before her, but it was more than enough to make her pause. One of those large blue tarps was set up against a wall and draped onto the floor. The ground was littered with shards of white porcelain, and Jane was standing nearby, wearing safety goggles. Completely oblivious to the people in the room with her, they watched her jot down something on a notepad before grabbing another plate and letting it fly.

_I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah_  
_Two hundred degrees_  
_That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit_  
_I'm traveling at the speed of light_  
_I wanna make a supersonic man out of -_

“ **Jane!** ”

Jane spun toward them at Darcy’s shout, reaching up to pull the safety glasses from her face then hitting the pause button on the speaker. The four of them seemed to be in frozen animation as they tried to understand what had happened. After being assaulted by Freddie Mercury’s stunning vocals, the quiet that descended over them felt like a slap in the face. “What the hell are you doing!?”

The surprised expression on Jane’s face didn’t fade. “Do you remember that article we read that said music is good for creativity?”

“Yeah.”

“A new study says physical destruction of something may increase your ability to move past a mental block.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “And you believed it?”

“After the second plate, no, but it _does_ help with stress and _oh_ , god, hi,” Jane said, taking a step closer to the men, “I’m Jane Foster.”

Steve darted forward so he could take Jane’s offered hand and shake it. “Nice to meet you, Jane, I’m Steve Rogers.”

“I know. I know who you are. Thor talks about you a lot.”

“Really?”

Jane nodded at Steve then turned her attention to Bucky. “And _Darcy_ talks about _you_ a lot,” she said with a grin, ignoring the daggers Darcy was shooting her over Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sergeant Barnes.” Jane had been extending her hand toward Bucky but stopped short, her eyes widening softly. “Is that a gun?”

A strangled sound forced its way from Darcy’s chest as her eyes landed on the weapon in his hand. “Why do you have a gun out? Strike that, better question: Where the hell did the gun _come_ from? You’re wearing sweats!”

“I’m always armed,” Bucky said, shifting the gun to this left hand.

“Always?” Once again, Darcy looked over at Steve for confirmation, who shrugged his shoulders as if it was completely normal. At Bucky’s echoing nod of confirmation, Darcy found herself struggling to accept all the weirdness that had happened in the past five minutes. “ _Okaaaay_ ,” she hummed, deciding to go back to their original plans. “Steve Rogers, welcome to the lab, where everything is a hypothesis and nothing is set in stone.”

“Except hieroglyphs,” Jane corrected.

Darcy shook her head, a mystified expression on her face as she gazed at her best friend. “You’re such a freaking nerd, Janey.” Jane seemed to take the comment in stride, a smile lifting her lips. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought the boys up to get a quick eyefull.”

At Darcy’s use of the term ‘the boys,’ Steve’s eyes slid in Bucky’s direction, unsurprised that there was a grin curling the other man’s lips, and unsurprised to find that he was wearing much of the same. Though he’d only been around Darcy a handful of times, the familiarity she spoke with was enchanting. Steve had never met someone so open and sincere. Candid. Warm. He understood why Bucky had become so relaxed around her. It was hard to be anything but content in her presence. 

“I hope it’s impressive,” Jane said, casting a look around the lab, “because it’s cost Stark _a lot_.”

Remembering the conversation he’d had with Tony, about how Strange had specifically mentioned Jane and her importance, Steve moved further into the space, blue gaze trying to decipher the formulas on a whiteboard. “What’s your research about?”

When Jane looked over at Darcy, an eyebrow raised, all she got from the other woman was a shrug of her shoulders. Seeing as they’d done a lackluster job of keeping their work a secret, especially with the constant stream of visitors that seemed to pop into their lab, Jane turned back to Steve. “We’re looking for a power source that might help find and use wormholes.”

Brows furrowing, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, expression taking on one of confusion. “Time travel?”

Darcy snorted. “That’s the best case scenario. Worst case? Spaghettification.”

Bucky shook his head, narrowing his eyes at Darcy. “You made that up.”

“ _Nuh-uh_ ,” Darcy said with a shake of her head from side to side, “did not. It’s real. It’s totally real. It’s _so_ real.”

Hoping he didn’t _always_ look this confused, Steve took a step closer to Darcy. “I don’t -”

“The black hole’s gravity basically stretches your body until you look like a spaghetti noodle,” Darcy explained.

“It’s a theory,” Jane clarified.

“And terrifying,” Darcy interrupted.

“But that’s not what’s going to happen here.”

Darcy shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Definitely not.”

“Hopefully.”

Feeling like he still didn’t have that great of a grasp on how blackholes equated to time travel, but knowing time travel was _exactly_ the kind of thing Tony would have his hands in, Steve held up two hands in defeat. “Got it. Spaghetti is bad.”

“Whoa now,” Darcy said, her voice dripping with offense, “I love a good spaghet, I just don’t want to _become_ thin noodle-y pasta.”

Lips curling at the _conviction_ Darcy could talk with, even if it was just about pasta, Bucky’s gaze slid toward Jane. He’d heard so much about the astrophysicist that it was nice to put a face to the name and all the stories. Her brown eyes seemed to be bouncing between the three of them, a thoughtful expression on her face. When her eyes locked with his, she held the stare for a second longer than necessary before smiling softly. There was something in those eyes, like she was trying to understand what was happening, but Bucky couldn’t fully decipher it.

“... And this over here is the _fifth_ analyzer we’ve had since we moved in. Apparently they’re very fragile machines.”

“Or you’re using them wrong.” Both women's eyes flicked to his, and he held up his hands in surrender. “Just a theory.”

Though Darcy’s eyes narrowed, there was a spark of humor in them. “You’re lucky this is a science lab and we’re tit-deep in theories, or I’d have unleashed this tiny spider monkey to take you down.”

The smirk stayed firm on Bucky’s lips, despite the darkness Darcy’s eyes were shining his way. “I’m so sorry.”

“ _Mmmmhmmm_ ,” Darcy hummed, making it clear she didn’t believe him in the slightest. She took a few seconds to appreciate the handsome features of Bucky’s face before turning to Steve. Her heart skipped a beat when she found that he was looking right at her. But even more than that, she had the distinct feeling like he’d been looking at her for a while before she caught him. Unsure what to do with that information, Darcy let it roll and continued like she coudldn’t hear her blood pumping through her veins at a higher rate. “Does your floor have a lab space?”

“No,” Steve said with a shake of his head, ignoring the slight heat to his cheeks from getting caught staring. He hadn’t _meant_ to, but watching Darcy and Bucky verbally spar each other was far more distracting than he wanted to admit. She was able to bring something out of Bucky, something familiar, and the gratitude nearly stole his voice. “No lab, just living quarters and an armory.”

“You have an entire armory beneath us?” Darcy’s eyes widened as her eyes flicked down toward the floor.

“It’s not a big deal,” Bucky assured her, “it’s just -”

“Do you have _grenades_ down there?”

It was such a specific question that Steve felt himself blink several times before he spoke. “Why?”

Darcy sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s a stockpile of weapons below us. If something goes wrong up here and there’s an explosion -”

Jane looked over at the men and attempted to reassure them. “There won’t be an explosion.”

“ - and _that_ explosion sets the grenades to blow then **boom!** ” Darcy mimed an explosion with her hands, eyes widening even more. “Great. Now we’re all dead.”

Bucky couldn’t help the raise of his eyebrow. “I think that’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Just like spaghettification,” Darcy said, grin growing brighter when the three gave groans of unison at her easy, cheap joke. She loved making people she cared about grin, and when she saw the upturned lips of the three around her, she felt her chest flutter with happiness. Deciding the tour had come to a close, she turned her attention to Steve. “Anyway. This is the lab. Hope it lived up to its meager hype.”

“It’s nice,” Steve said with a nod in Darcy and Jane’s direction. “Very impressive.”

Darcy gave him an uncertain look. “I’m not sure if that’s sarcasm or not.”

“Take it from someone who’s spent a fair bit of time in labs surrounded by scientists. This is impressive.”

“Awww,” Darcy said, turning to Jane with a smile, “see Janey? It’s good!”

“Glad we impressed,” Jane said, grinning softly at Steve.

Turning back to the men, Darcy felt a weird sensation in her chest. She found herself wanting to linger, wanting to draw out the time she got to spend with them. It might have started tough with Bucky, but they’d reached a point of friendship that filled her with warmth. He was less guarded, more quick to smile, and appeared to have gotten a hand on his anxiety, though she knew it wasn’t something that would ever go away completely. She could joke around with Bucky, and when she did, she got the distinct impression that people didn’t normally laugh around him. It’d sounded rusty at first, but after their months of knowing each other, she could confirm with absolute certainty that his laugh was unlike anyone else’s. It felt like velvet rolling over her skin, and when she saw his nose crinkle happily, Darcy was nearly knocked off her feet.

And when you added in the blond at Bucky’s side, Darcy felt like she was floating. If he’d been upset at her not seeking him out, Steve’d decided to let it go. She still felt that knife of guilt twisting in her chest, but she didn’t know how to explain it to him in a way that would make sense. _She_ even struggled with it. ‘I’m afraid to spend more one-on-one time with you because I’m afraid you won’t like me anymore’ was a cop out, and only explained _half_ of why she hadn’t sought him out when she knew they’d be staying in the states, _let alone_ living in the same building. She prided herself on not being thrown by super soldiers or superheroes, but here she was, star struck by the two men.

Eventually she’d have that conversation with Steve, seeing how often they saw each other now, but for the moment Darcy wanted to live in her bubble of dark hair, blue eyes, and coffee. Just a little longer. “Thanks for letting me show you around. I guess I’ll see you guys on Monday?”

Bucky shook his head. “Movie night.”

Darcy slapped her hand against her forehead, hazel eyes widening. “Fuck! That’s right! Thanks for reminding me. I’ve got to go get snacks later. Then I’ll be seeing you both tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” Steve said, which prompted both Darcy and Bucky to look sharply in his direction. He did his best to school his features, but internally he was repeating those words over and over in his mind and looking for the lie.

When the three of them went quiet, Jane could feel a weight in the air, some heft of ozone that seemed to be smothering the lab. The astrophysicist was known for being a bit socially awkward, but the tension was too large to ignore. Feeling like she was interrupting, but not knowing what else to do, Jane cleared her throat and earned the eyes in the room. “It was nice to finally meet both of you. You’re welcome any time.”

“Just don’t tell Stark,” Darcy said as she gathered herself together. “He swore he’d steal a kidney if we let anything leak.”

Bucky smirked, pushing past the awkward silence that Steve’s words had brought. “We’ll be careful.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Buck.”

Loving Darcy’s use of ‘Buck,’ and the easy way it’d fallen from her tongue, Steve nodded his head in Darcy and Jane’s direction. “See you tomorrow.”

Darcy watched them head to the door, both of them turning back to look at her with a small smile, which she answered with a wave of her hand. The doors swung a little once they’d pushed through, and Darcy let out a deep sigh as she leaned back against one of the work stations. Was she unfazed being at the soldier’s sides, or was she just pretending _really_ hard? Movement in her peripheral vision made Darcy’s gaze slide to the right, where it landed on Jane and her very contemplative expression. The one that meant her best friend was trying to understand something. “What? What’s the look for?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t _look_ like nothing,” Darcy said, disbelief dripping in her words. “I know your brain, Janey-Lou-Who. Which hampster’s spinning the wheel?”

“It’s just nice to see you making friends.”

Darcy’s lower jaw dropped in offense. “Hey! I have plenty of friends.”

“You have two.”

“That’s not –“

Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “Name someone other than me and Erik.”

Blinking at Jane, Darcy’s brain seemed to shut down, all higher functioning going out the window. She stood there, dumbfounded, with a panicked look in her eyes. “ _Uhhhh_...”

“Yeah. Exactly. You’ve been in a lab with me for years, have lived on different continents and countries, moving constantly, and none of that is conducive to building meaningful friendships.”

Waving her hand in defeat, Darcy rolled her eyes at Jane. “Okay, _okay_ , I get your point. Jeez.”

“And about tomorrow night...”

Eyes widening, Darcy reached out and gripped one of Jane’s wrists. “No. No no _no_! You are _not_ leaving me alone with all the Avengers!”

“No, that’s not it. I’ll be there.” Jane watched Darcy practically deflate in relief. “I was just going to see if you could get me –“

“Red Vines and Dr. Pepper? Yes, my science soul mate, I will get your favorites.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too. Now go take a shower because you are _rank_.” 

Darcy ignored the rude gesture Jane sent her way, watching her best friend slip through the doors and down the hall toward their rooms. She stood there, listening to her own body and trying to explain the flip in her stomach. Deciding it was too early for soul-searching, Darcy set about to her tasks. She paused near the tarp and pile of plates, a thoughtful look on her face. Shrugging her shoulders, she grabbed one of the plates and let it fly, jumping in shock as the porcelain shattered. Nodding softly at the satisfaction, she headed toward the closet where they hid the broom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone deserves to feel wanted.  
> Everyone deserves to feel needed.  
> Everyone deserves to feel cared for.  
> I know it's easier to show this to others than we show ourselves.  
> This goes out to all the people who bend over backwards to tell their loved ones that they are, in fact, loved, but never manage to include themselves in that love:  
>  _You_ deserve to feel _wanted_.  
>  _You_ deserve to feel _needed_.  
>  _You_ deserve to feel _cared for_.  
> You're more beautiful than you could ever know.  
> So throw open those windows, soak in that sunshine, and know that there's someone in Iowa who's happy to be your hype man!


	23. Glowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie Night at Avengers Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Guys. It never fails.  
> I get a nervous stomach when I post a new chapter  
> but then you guys make me float with the comments/kudos/likes/reblogs.  
> I wish I could properly express how much it means to me... but I can't.  
> Words are hard, dontchaknow?  
> <3  
>   
> 

_Your love is bright as ever_  
_Even in the shadows_  
_Baby kiss me_  
_Before they turn the lights out_  
_Your heart is glowing_  
_And I'm crashing into you_  
_Baby kiss me_  
_Before they turn the lights out_  
_In the darkest night_  
_I'll search through the crowd_  
_Your face is all that I see_  
_I'll give you everything_  


**XO - Beyonce**

Eyes widening when she heard footsteps down the hallway near the lounge they’d co-opted for the evening, Darcy glanced up at the clock in a panic. People weren’t supposed to start arriving for at least a half-hour, and there was still _so much_ to do. Her shoulders sagged in relief when Steve appeared, arms full of party supplies that she’d somehow forgotten to grab earlier. “You’re a fucking life saver, you know that, Rogers?”

“Anything to help,” Steve said with a smile, laying the plates and glasses on the kitchen island. He knew he was early, but as he’d sat on the couch just a few floors above, he hadn’t been able to come up with a good enough reason _not_ to go down early and see if Darcy needed any help. She’d planned all this for them, after all, and he wanted to show his appreciation. After taking a seat at the island, Steve’s thoughts began to spin, just like they had in the two weeks since he’d reconnected with Darcy. Spending mornings with her and Bucky was amazing, but Steve found that he’d begun waiting for the other shoe to drop.

There had to be a reason _why_ Darcy hadn’t come to see him when she found out she wasn’t leaving the country, let alone when she moved into the same _building_ , but Steve hadn’t been able to suss it out for himself. He was extremely grateful she was there, especially when he could see how well Bucky’d been doing lately, but he couldn’t seem to brush off the blush of uncertainty that still peppered his mind.

As he watched her move around, fretting in an effort to make everything perfect, he pushed past the ambiguous question and decided to focus on the good things. Slipping from his seat, he stretched to grab a bowl out of the higher cabinets, saving Darcy from having to climb on the counter to reach it. “Thank you.”

Darcy’s tongue clicked as she took the bowl he held out, confusion in her expression. “ _You’re_ the one who grabbed the bowl for _me_. Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”

“I didn’t mean for the bowl. I meant for this.”

Darcy’s gaze flicked from his eyes, down to the bag of chips in his hands, then back up at him again. “For the cool ranch doritos? I guess, uh, _you’re welcome_?”

Steve chuckled, well aware how easily he could put his foot in his mouth. It didn’t surprise him in the least that Darcy hadn’t understood what he meant, as he was having trouble finding the right words for the job. “I meant for setting this up.”

Waving her hand through the air, Darcy tore into a bag of chips and filled the bowl with them. “It was just a flyer in an elevator,” she reasoned, balling the crinkly bag and setting it aside, “it was no big deal.”

Getting used to her downplaying the things she did, even when they _were_ a big deal, Steve crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the granite countertops. “It’s been a long time since we’ve all gotten together.”

“Well, it’s not like you guys have a lot of free time.”

Laughing softly, Steve nodded at her. “You’re not wrong.”

Eyes quickly scanning the room in an effort to make sure she hadn’t forgotten something, Darcy stood across from Steve in the kitchenette, trying _not_ to stare at the muscles in his forearms and think about how fucking _hot_ he was standing there with his sleeves rolled up. “I’m not used to planning for this many people. Usually it’s just me and Jane. Sometimes Selvig. And Thor, if he can swing it.” When she realized what she’d said, she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. _If he can swing it. Quality Myuh-myuh joke._

As he stood there, Steve found himself wanting to learn more about her; the night they’d spent talking had been primarily about _his_ life and history, with Darcy only adding stories that complimented his. She’d never appeared bored as he’d droned on and on, but unburdening himself as much as he had meant the conversation had been a bit one sided. “Did you have big family dinners?”

A bittersweet smile lifted Darcy’s lips. “No, it was just me, my mom, and my aunt.”

While she’d mentioned her mother before, Steve wondered why she wasn’t there now since it was so close to the holidays. “Will you be going back there for Christmas and New Years?”

“Oh,” Darcy said, pulled from her memories at Steve’s question, gaze falling down to their feet. She followed the seam of one tile with her eyes, a soft smile lifting her lips. “They’re both gone now.”

Steve’s face fell. He hadn’t meant to bring up something so heavy, especially not right before a party. Worried he’d spoiled the mood, his arms dropped to his sides, a flash of apology in his blue gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize -”

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Darcy said, hazel eyes flicking back up to his. “It’s been a little bit now.”

“But it never gets any easier.”

Feeling her heart strobing softly, seeing commiseration in his gaze, Darcy gave him a small smile. “No, but you learn to work through the pain.”

Still in awe of how she could smile while talking about a hard subject, Steve watched her glance down at her feet, her sock-covered toes curling against the tile. “I didn’t come from a big family either.”

“No, but you had the Commandos. They sound like they were a rowdy bunch.”

“They were,” Steve agreed with a chuckle, memories flashing in his mind of the ragtag group of people who’d become a family despite the time and environment they’d found themselves in. Glancing back at Darcy, Steve’s head cocked to the side with curiosity. “You looked them up?”

“I wanted to know a little more about you,” Darcy said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“... you could have just asked.”

The vulnerability in Steve’s voice, speaking about her lack of contact over the past months without actually saying it, felt like a guilty knife had been stabbed into Darcy’s chest. She wished she could explain _why_ she’d not sought him out, but everything just felt like an excuse. She opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ to erase the hurt in Steve’s eyes, but she was interrupted by the boisterous arrival of Clint and Natasha.

“ _Let’s do this!_ ” 

When Clint threw a bag of saltwater taffy in his direction, Steve plucked it easily out of the air. Barton’s second volley, however, was doomed from the start, and Steve darted forward and caught the box of Raisinettes before it crashed into Darcy’s face.

Realizing how close she’d come to having a pruny-chocolate induced injury, Darcy turned accusing eyes toward the archer. “ _What the shit, Barton!?_ ”

“Sorry,” the agent said with an unrepentant shrug of his shoulders, “I missed.”

Darcy’s expression told Clint exactly how _un_ amused she was at him _being_ amused, and when Natasha looked away from them and hid her smile behind her hand, Darcy wished for superpowers that would allow her to smack the smirk from Clint’s face, regardless of how well-intentioned his goal had been. She watched Clint climb over the back of a couch only to collapse onto it a second later.

Movement in her peripheral vision drew her gaze, and Darcy almost swallowed her tongue. Arms dropping heavily to her sides, her eyes widened as she recognized the person trailing behind Tony. The woman’s strawberry blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the jogging suit she wore was (somehow) both flattering _and_ comfortable.

Feeling like she’d been smacked in the face, Darcy took a step closer to the woman, with absolutely no amount of chill. “Oh, hi. _Oh man._ Hi! You’re Pepper Potts. Hi. Wow. I’m Darcy Lewis, scientist strangler.” Eyes growing even wider, Darcy felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. “ _I meant wrangler!_ I wouldn’t strangle anyone. Especially not scientists. They’re some of my favorite people!”

Taking the hand that had been thrust in her direction, Pepper shook Darcy’s hand with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Darcy. Tony has told me absolutely nothing about you.”

“Because I don’t _know_ anything about her,” Tony chimed in from the bar, “can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

Pepper’s eye roll was perfection, and Darcy watched her wander in the direction of her fiance. Feeling like she was floating, and over the moon that their little movie night had snagged one of the most badass women on the globe, Darcy knew the grin on her face was a doozy. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a warm fan of breath against the shell of her ear.

“ _You okay?_ ”

Spinning toward Bucky, Darcy lifted her hand to slap out at him, but he caught it easily, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and holding her in place. “It’s Pepper Potts!” she rasped in a low whisper, like the words themselves were sacred.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, uncertain if he’d ever seen this expression on Darcy’s face before. It was like open devotion, and it was breathtaking to see in all that hazel.

“It’s Pepper _fucking_ Potts! She’s amazing. Business woman. Genius. Fashion icon. I mean, just _look_ at her! She’s the total g.o.a.t.!”

Eyes narrowing softly, the starstruck quality of Darcy’s expression too good to pass up, Bucky brought their hands down, though he kept his hold on her arm just in case. “... did you just call her a goat?”

“It means ‘greatest of all time,’ which she _absolutely_ is.”

Trying to figure out where the bad idea came from - but assuming it was Steve, probably, since the blond didn’t know when to leave well enough alone - Bucky decided to commit to the brainstorm, regardless of the outcome. “I think she needs to know you called her a goat.”

When Bucky turned and moved like he was going to approach Pepper, Darcy held in the screech that threatened to break free, desperate to stop Bucky from even _talking_ to the CEO. She wrapped her hand around his left arm, attempting to stop his movement, but only succeeded in being drug across the floor. “ _No! **No** , Bucky Barnes, I will **murder** you in your sleep!_”

Bucky laughed when he turned back to Darcy, seeing the barely contained panic that had filled her cheeks with pink. He watched her sag in relief, a smirk curling his lips, but his gaze was pulled over Darcy’s shoulder. Natasha’s green eyes were studying the two of them, a contemplative expression on her face. There was something in that gaze that meant something, and he wasn’t sure what just yet.

Darcy let out another deep breath, still reeling from the _catastrophic_ mistake she’d barely avoided, and was only brought back to the present when her best friend and her favorite little-g-god pushed through the doors and started in her direction. “Hey Big Guy, what are you _eeeeee!_ ” She hadn’t expected to be folded into Thor’s arms and lifted from the ground. As he squeezed her, she let out a squeal and slapped at his bicep. “ _Air. Air becoming an issue_.”

Letting her go with a heavy, happy sigh, Thor took a step back but kept his hands on Darcy’s shoulders, bending so he could look her dead in the face. “I owe you a great debt, Darcy. Your open mind has granted my people a new life, one with roots in which our kingdom can grow.”

Wondering what the fuck was going on, as she’d been thanked for _two_ things that shouldn’t be things you _needed_ to be thanked for, Darcy patted Thor on the arm. “I don’t need all that,” she said with a shake of her head, “I was already breadstick wasted at the point. I never expected you to actually _do_ it.”

“Mermaiden Thor,” Tony said as he came to stand next to the group in the kitchenette, “perhaps we wait on the congrats until the thing actually gets built.”

“I have faith that it will happen, and that is enough. Now,” Thor said, rubbing his hands together, “I was told there would be... _ah_! There they are.” The Asgardian walked toward one of the coffee tables, grabbing the candy from the bowl and shoveling a handful in his mouth.

When Tony turned back to her with a suspicious expression, Darcy shrugged her shoulders. “Skittles are his favorite. I think it reminds him of the rainbow lights from home.”

Taking the information and storing it in the back of his mind - like he did with almost everything - Tony held out a dark glass bottle toward Darcy. “Consider this my donation to the cause. I guess the whole _building_ is a donation for the cause. For several causes anyway. Well? Will it suffice?”

Darcy’s attention moved from Tony, to the bottle, then back again. “... this is a three-hundred dollar bottle of champagne.”

“So?”

“So there’s not enough for everyone.”

Tony shook his head, casting his gaze around the room and the people gathered. “The soldiers can’t drink, Romanoff doesn’t like the taste, and Pepper’s got an early flight.”

Darcy continued blinking at him. “You’re suggesting that you and I split a three-hundred dollar bottle of booze?”

From the couch, Clint’s hand shot into the air. “And me!”

“Um,” Darcy said, feeling the weight of the bottle in her hand, “okay, I guess I’ll have a glass.” Appearing satisfied, Tony took the bottle from her and headed back toward the bar. Still feeling a bit lost at how the night was starting, she looked over at Bucky and Steve as they came to stand beside her. “You guys can’t drink?”

Steve shook his head sadly. “Our metabolisms are too high.”

A look of horror crossed Darcy’s face. “That’s a fucking _travesty_.”

Steve shared a look with Bucky, then the two of them shrugged and turned back to Darcy. “We’ve gotten used to it,” Bucky murmured. 

As she digested the new bit of info, a question in her mind floated to the surface, and she looked at Steve with a slightly accusing expression. “If you can’t drink, then why did I make you an alcoholic beverage that night in my apartment?”

Feeling his cheeks and the tips of his ears heat, Steve avoided looking directly at Darcy. “You offered me a drink, and I said yes. It seemed impolite not to take it.”

Still frowning, feeling like this ‘Super Soldiers Can’t Get Drunk’ thing was a little bit of bullshit, Darcy brought a finger to her chin and tapped it thoughtfully. “Have you guys _tried_ getting drunk? Maybe it just takes a lot more, like Andre the Giant.” When both of them just blinked at her, Darcy’s face fell. “Andre the Giant? Come on, you can’t _not_ know about him. He’s a fucking _giant_!”

“You have grappled with giants?” Thor asked as he strolled up, fingers digging into the rainbow sweets. He’d already given up the idea of sharing, and had decided that the bowl of skittles was his and his alone. “They are formidable foes. I was not aware you have them on Midgard.”

Darcy brought a hand to her forehead, slapping it in pseudo-mock dismay. “Andre the Giant. Wrestler. Actor. ‘Anybody want a peanut?’ Oh, for fuck’s sake! _Barton!_ ” When the archer’s head popped up from the couch, she gestured helplessly toward the men at her side. “They’ve never seen the _Princess Bride_!”

“I can only control so much, Lewis,” was the only response she got from the blond.

“Welp, that just got added to the list of things to watch next.”

“ _When will that be?_ ”

Letting out a ‘ _yip!_ , Darcy spun to find Natasha only inches behind her, a completely blank look on the redhead’s face. “ _Jesus_ ,” she groused, “you’re so fucking sneaky!”

One of Natasha’s shoulders lifted and fell gracefully. “Kind of a job requirement.”

Brushing off the surprise at the spy’s sudden appearance, Darcy clicked her teeth as she pondered the question. “Okay, I mean, if we wanted to do this monthly -”

“Bimonthly,” Clint interrupted from the couch.

Tony held a glass of bubbly amber liquid out toward Darcy, then held it out toward Clint, before pulling it back at the last second. “Some of us have actual work to do, Barton.”

“Then make it part of our debriefs. You have the power to do that, don’t you Stark?”

“Hey, if you want to talk to the boss, you go right ahead and schedule an appointment with Ms. Potts,” Tony said, finally holding the glass where Clint could grab it. “But you should know that she has this very needy, cloying, ivy-like person who sucks up all of her time…”

“Oh, well, will you look at that!” Pepper said, giving Clint a soft smile. “My schedule just opened up.” Tony cast an offended look in the CEO’s direction, but Pepper just pursed her lips then took another sip of her tea.

While Tony, Pepper, Natasha, and Clint had a conversation that involved lots of hand gestures, Steve cast his gaze around the room. “Are we good to go?”

Darcy frowned, doing a quick head count. “We’re missing someone.”

“I, uh, think that someone is me,” Bruce said as he pushed into the room, a look of uncertainty on his face. 

Darcy turned her large grin toward Bruce. She’d been worried that somehow he’d find a way to get out of joining them, but it appeared fate had given her a helping hand. “Doc! Glad you were able to make it!”

“I got a text saying it was mandatory.”

“That’s so odd,” Tony hummed from his seat next to Pepper, stretching his arm along the back of the sofa. “You should definitely look into who would send that to you. But do that later. Right now, we’ve got a movie to watch.”

“There’s an open seat next to Jane,” Darcy offered, ignoring the sharp glare from Jane when the scientist pointed it toward her. Yes, watching Jane and her brain!crush was a blast, but it wasn’t _just_ done to make Jane sputter. No, she knew her best friend was going crazy because their data wasn’t lining up properly, and Darcy hoped that sitting next to Banner would lead to a conversation, and _that_ conversation might snowball into something better. It was worth a shot, in any case, and Darcy only felt a _bit_ of guilt as she watched the frumpled man take the seat to Jane’s left.

“Alright,” Darcy said, feeling everyone’s eyes as they all looked over toward her and doing her best not to squirm under the attention. 

From the people gathered, she realized there were six people in the room who could probably kill her with their bare hands, a man who enjoyed suits of armor, her best friend, and the most powerful, amazing, awesome woman in the entire world. It was quite the group, and not for the first time, Darcy had to marvel at what her life had become. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: _Raiders of the Lost Ark_!”

Steve realized early on in the movie that there was no way he’d be able to follow the plot. Between Barton’s horrible puns - bad enough that people grabbed things and threw them at him - and the science speak going on between Dr. Foster and Bruce, he found himself unable to say what the movie was really about. He was far too distracted.

Another reason for his distraction was the woman sitting to his right and the man on the floor in front of her. Steve couldn’t tell you _why_ , but Bucky had thought sitting on the ground and leaning back against their legs was the best spot for him. Steve’s eyes kept drifting to his right, continually drawn to Darcy and Bucky, and in the darkened room, he didn’t have to worry about being caught staring.

Halfway through the movie - he assumed it was halfway but he had no real knowledge to back up the assumption - Steve watched as Darcy picked a bit of fluff from Bucky’s hair. His best friend went still, like a statue, and for a second, Steve worried that Bucky would be overwhelmed by the physical contact. Darcy bent her head down so she could speak with Bucky, and between the other conversations going on and the volume on the TV, even his superior hearing didn’t help him hear their whispers. When she straightened with a roll of her eyes, Steve leaned into her. “What’s wrong?”

Darcy’d tried to avoid the shiver, but it went up her spine regardless, her body reacting to Steve’s nearness and his breath as it fanned against her ear. “Huh?”

Steve leaned even closer, ignoring the hint of vanilla he could smell on her skin. “I asked if something was wrong.”

“Oh, no,” Darcy whispered with a shake of her head. “I just wanted to know what kind of shampoo and conditioner he uses because his hair is really soft. He said it’s ‘the green one,’ which helps exactly _no one_.”

“Ah,” Steve said, sitting back on the couch. He had half a mind to tell her that the serum probably had something to do with it, but since he wasn’t sure, he kept his lips closed. He tried to watch the movie, he really did, but the movie came second to what was happening beside him. He was suddenly hyper aware of Darcy’s hands, watching her thumb absently brush over a lock of Bucky’s hair, the care in her attention indescribable. 

When Darcy joined with Clint to see who could make the group groan the loudest, Steve had found himself mesmerized by the way her entire body laughed, and the way she threw her head back when she cackled. She was warm, and funny, and despite his uncertainty on why she hadn’t come and found him when she knew he was there, he was drawn to her regardlessly. The fact that Bucky didn’t seem to mind Darcy’s touch in his hair could not be overstated, and Steve’s eyes tracked her movement, giving up the ruse of watching the movie entirely.

As the credits rolled, the conversations between the group hit a crescendo, and Darcy was surprised when everyone said they’d try to make it to the next one, and that they’d expect another flyer in the elevator with the date and time. Bucky followed Natasha out, saying he had something to talk to her about, which meant Darcy found herself alone with Steve.

After gathering all the bowls and glasses, Darcy began doing the dishes while Steve cleared the last of the trash. After tossing the bag through the garbage chute, Steve made his way back toward Darcy and the sink. He took in the domesticity of her standing there, hands digging into the suds to find the next glass, before his eyes tracked toward her right. “You know there’s a dishwasher right beside you, right?”

Darcy waved a soapy hand at him. “Yeah, I know, but I always liked doing it by hand. Makes the work worth it, I guess.”

Looking through the drawers, Steve found a dish towel and pulled a plate from the rack, drying the dishes while she cleaned. After a few moments of quiet, he cleared his throat, watching as Darcy turned toward him in expectation. “You did a really good thing here tonight.”

Feeling uncomfortable about his praise, always better at being self-deprecating, Darcy shook her head. “It was just a movie, Rogers.”

“It’s been awhile since the team got together like this.” Steve placed the plates on the counter as he dried them. The action became second nature, and he was able to focus on Darcy and their conversation.

“I mean, you guys are pretty busy with all that world-saving nonsense.”

“But we should make the time to stay close. It improves team morale.”

“Well then,” Darcy said, lifting her wet hand and holding it to her forehead in a mock salute, “I’m glad to be of service.” When his lips lifted in a smile, Darcy turned back to the sink and the task at hand with a smile of her own. It was just dishes, but she couldn’t help but think that they made a pretty good team.

The work was comfortable, and Steve used the momentary quiet to gather his thoughts. There were things he wanted to say, and ask, but finding the right words had always been his problem. “We could do this more often.”

Darcy glanced over at him. “Natasha made it seem like it might be hard with everyone’s schedule.”

“Oh, I meant us.” When she raised an eyebrow at him, Steve reached for another plate. “Me, you, and Bucky. And Jane,” he added as an afterthought, “of course, she’d be welcome, too. I just mean it doesn’t _have_ to be with everyone.”

Taking his suggestion and trying not to read too far into it, Darcy dug her hands into the suds again, not sure why her stomach fluttered at his suggestion. “Any movies in particular?”

“No. I guess I’m in it for the company.”

Darcy looked over at him to find Steve was studiously avoiding her gaze. It looked as if there was something else on his mind, his cheeks colored pink, the words obvious behind his blue gaze. He remained quiet, though, and Darcy chose not to push. She turned back to the glasses, feeling her own cheeks heating pink. “I’d love to watch movies with you and Bucky. Once Jane gets into her sciencing, it can get a little lonely.”

“I know how that feels,” Steve said with a nod of his head.

“Do you?”

Steve’s hands stilled on the glass, his thoughts going back to when he’d first been brought out of the ice. He’d woken up in a world completely different than the one he’d left, and that feeling of loneliness still lingered in the back of his mind. He’d felt disconnected, rudderless, with no clear path. “It can be lonely in a room full of people.”

The lost look in Steve’s eyes created a tightness in Darcy’s throat. She didn’t know _why_ , but the tone in his voice formed cracks in her heart; after everything he’d sacrificed for the world, finding out Steve felt isolated made tears spring to her eyes. “But not with me or Bucky?”

Gaze flicking up to hers, Steve studied her eyes for a moment, seeing the concern and worry strobe in all that hazel. “No,” he said, hands stilling, “not with you two.”

“That’s good,” Darcy said, her lips lifting as she felt her cheeks heat. When he smiled back at her, she nearly lost her knees at the amount of beautiful being directed her way. 

Bucky cleared his throat, watching Darcy and Steve get startled out of their conversation, both sets of eyes swinging in his direction. “You know there’s a dishwasher right next to you, right?”

“She likes to do it by hand,” Steve supplied, grin brightening when Darcy looked at him with one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen.

When Bucky made no other move toward them, Darcy grabbed one of the yellow rubber gloves she’d decided not to use, throwing it at Bucky. “You could help, you know.”

Bucky caught the glove without flinching. “I like watching you two.” 

Steve glanced toward Bucky at his words to find his best friend was staring straight at him, an entire novel in the way he refused to look away.

Snorting, Darcy rooted around the bottom of the sink for more silverware. “That was only _slightly_ creepy, Buck. Kudos.”

After tearing his eyes from Bucky’s, Steve decided it wasn’t the time. Whatever he’d seen in the soldier's eyes was gone now, replaced with amusement at Darcy’s words. “I’m surprised Jane didn’t stay to help clean.”

Darcy laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, you don’t want Jane to clean. Bad things happen when she cleans. Very bad things. It’s why I’m glad she’ll be gone next week. I’ll have all the time to deep clean all the things.”

A frown turned Steve’s lips. “It’s Christmas next week.”

“Believe it or not, I’m aware. All the lights and songs kind of gave it away.” When Steve rolled his eyes softly, she continued. “She’s going home for the first time in forever. She’ll be out most of the week, but if Uncle Greg gets too far into the eggnog and decides to aggressively talk about ‘making America great again,’ I told her I’d have bail money and an alibi ready.”

“I know how to hide a body.” When both Steve and Darcy looked over at him, he hid his amusement behind a mask of indifference. “What?”

Eyes sliding toward Steve’s, Darcy only lasted three seconds before she started laughing, glad when Steve joined in. 

Bucky took a seat on one of the stools at the island, watching the system Darcy and Steve had created, seeing how easily they moved in each other’s space. He felt more relaxed than he had in a long time, and he knew _part_ of it was because he was no longer a fugitive in his own country, but the other reasons were the two people standing at the sink, washing dishes and laughing. They moved in tandem, and Bucky was reminded of the conversation he had with Natasha.

_“It’s hard for someone you love to hear you **say** that you love them, while in the same breath telling them they need to find someone one.”_

_“Exactly,” Bucky said, “if he’d just -”_

_“But it’s not really someone else, is it? It’s not someone who’s going to be completely separate from you and Steve. They’re not replacing you. It’s someone in **addition** to you and Steve.”_

Pulled from the memory, Bucky’s eyes followed Darcy and Steve as they finished drying and putting away the rest of the dishes. Darcy stood in the middle of the kitchen, chin dropping as she yawned widely, a hand over her mouth. When her shoulders sagged, Bucky’s lips lifted. “It was a good night, Darce. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Darcy said with a grin, before another yawn split her face. Eyes watering, she pointed toward the door. “Now get the fuck out.” The chuckle from both men made Darcy’s smile grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Power.  
> It’s like just saying the word can make the universe hold its breath.  
> Everyone has a power.  
> A power with words, using language in service to others.  
> A power with song, bringing people to their knees in reverence.  
> A power to carry the weight of an entire life on shoulders strong enough that not even the waves of an endless ocean could pull you under.  
> Using your power for good is a choice.  
> Using your power to help others is a choice.  
> Using your power so you can prove to yourself how _amazing_ you, how the moon ebbs and flows at a single word from your lips.  
> Power can be quiet; in a whisper that stops knees from knocking and quaking at uncertainty.  
> Power can be loud; screaming to the heavens that you will not let this bring you down.  
> Power can be scary.  
> Honest.  
> Perfect.  
> Important.  
>  _You_.  
> What’s your power?


	24. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane asks Darcy some hard questions, Natasha does the same for Steve, and Bucky's new therapist attempts to earn the soldier's trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> How is it August already?!?  
> It's hot as balls here in Iowa, but hopefully the talk of snow in this chapter cools us all down.  
> We've got another month in front of us.  
> Let's do this!  
> P.S. I love all of you. _yes_ , **all** of you!  
> <3
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

_Come out of hiding_  
_You're safe here with me_  
_There's no need to cover_  
_What I already see_  
_You've got your reasons_  
_But I hold your peace_  
_You've been on lock-down_  
_And I hold the key_  
_And oh, as you run_  
_What hindered love_  
_Will only become_  
_Part of the story_  
_And now I'll be your lighthouse_  
_When you're lost at sea_  
_And I will illuminate_  
_Everything_  
_No need to be frightened by intimacy_  
_No, just throw off your fear_  
_And come running to me_  
_Now rid of the shackles, my victory's yours_  
_I tore the veil for you to come close_  
_There's no reason to stand at a distance anymore_  
_You're not far from home_  


**Out of Hiding - Steffany Gretzinger**

“I didn’t know you knew Steve Rogers.” 

Darcy’s fingers moved fast over the keyboard as she transcribed the latest batch of their data. “I introduced you to him, remember?” 

“I know that,” Jane said, her voice taking on a hint of annoyance, “but how do you _know_ him?” 

Unsure where this line of questioning was headed, but feeling apprehensive about the entire thing, Darcy kept her eyes on the laptop. “We’ve hung out a few times.” 

“In the mornings. With Bucky. Right?” 

Realizing that her best friend _knew_ something was up, and knowing better than to hide it, Darcy dropped the pretense of work and turned in her chair to face Jane. “And… before.” When Jane lifted an eyebrow and stood there waiting for an explanation, Darcy let out a heavy sigh. “I _might_ have spent an entire night talking with him when we still lived about Ern’s bar in Brooklyn.” 

“ _What?_ How am I _just now_ hearing about this? What happened?” 

Darcy knew there was nothing she could do now that Jane was on the hunt. The safest thing she could do would be to just tell her best friend _everything_ , even with her own insecurities or doubts. “It was nothing. Some girl tried to screw him over and I stopped it. Then he came back to say thanks and we talked. Until the sun came up. Then you were coming in the door and I pushed him onto the fire escape -” 

“ _What_?” 

“- and I have no idea _why_ , but I kissed him because I thought we were never going to see each other again, so fuck it, might as well, right? Like a summer fling, something that happens then is over in the fall. But then we _didn’t_ leave and we moved in the tower instead, and I knew he lived here, but I didn’t say anything because he’s amazing, and I was scared, and I might have hurt his feelings and I just don’t know what to do about it now.” 

Jane’s whiskey-colored eyes widened at the verbal vomit Darcy had just experienced. “Wow.” 

“I’m an idiot,” Darcy said, reaching up to rub a hand over her face. “I should have gone to see him when I realized we weren’t leaving. I mean, he seemed to like it. And me. I mean, he kissed me back.” 

“When you realized we’d be coming here, why didn’t you -” 

“ _I don’t know!_ ” Darcy gestured helpless at Jane. “I didn’t want to ruin a good thing? I’d be able to put on blinders and not see how shitty my behavior was? I figured Future Darcy would puzzle it out and come up with a good reason.” 

“Doesn’t sound like Future Darcy was on the ball.” 

“She’s totally fired.” Having the not-so-secret secret out in the open felt good, but Darcy still felt as confused and guilty as she had before. She still had no idea how to explain it to Steve, and though she enjoyed the time she spent with him like crazy, she could always feel that conversation hovering around them, waiting for it to come to the surface. It was rough, and she was so far in the weeds that she couldn’t see a way out. 

When Darcy looked up at Jane, her best friend was wearing a contemplative expression. Darcy knew Jane was thinking hard, and it formed a frown on Darcy’s face. “What?” 

“You…” 

Not sure what Jane was attempting to explain, Darcy’s head cocked to the side. “I… what? What do I do?” 

“Forget it.” 

Darcy slipped from her chair and followed after Jane as the astrophysicists moved further into the lab, knowing her guise of ‘busyness’ was just a way to avoid saying what she’d almost said. “ _Ohhhh no_ , Jane,” Darcy said, taking several quick steps so she could wraps her fingers around Jane’s arm and stop her, “that’s not how this works. What did you mean?” 

“You light up around them.” 

It was definitely not what she’d expected to come out of Jane’s mouth, and it caused Darcy to drop her hand. When Jane just stood there, looking at her with an eyebrow raised, Darcy gestured through the air and rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Sure. _Okay_.” 

“You smile more. You laugh more, too.” 

“Come _on_ , Jane. We were watching a movie that was an action comedy. Keyword there is _comedy_. Of course I was going to be laughing.” 

Jane’s expression made it clear she wasn’t buying the bullshit Darcy was shoveling her way. “Darcy Lewis, I know you. Better than you would like.” 

Still not believing what her best friend was saying, Darcy crossed her arms over her chest, like she’d be able to stop considering the truth of Jane’s words. “We’re just _friends_. Pseudo-coworkers, really.” 

“And that’s good enough for you?” 

“Trust me, Jane. There is no possible future in which I’m anything more than friends with Steve Rogers.” What Jane was suggesting was insane. There was no way she was in Steve’s league. She’d seen pictures of Peggy Carter. The woman had been a knockout, and powerful, and _crazy_ intelligent. How would _anyone_ stack up against her? 

“And Barnes?” 

A snort lifted and dropped Darcy’s shoulders. Jane was _definitely_ reading into things. Were Steve and Bucky the first people outside of Jane and Erik that she’d really spent time around? Yes. Did that mean birds appeared every time they were near? No. Jane was looking for something that just wasn’t there. “Not going to happen.” 

“Yeah? What does Future Darcy have to say about it?” 

“You leave Future Darcy out of this.” As she watched her best friend roll her eyes, Darcy shook her own head. Was it super odd that she’d somehow become friends with both Bucky Barnes _and_ Steve Rogers? Yeah. It was _well_ outside of the realm of possibilities she found herself living in. What Jane was suggesting was insane, wasn’t it? 

Even if she did like them _like that_ \- which she wasn’t sure she did - it would never work. With either of them. With a sigh, Darcy crossed her arms over her chest again and leaned back against one of the work tables. “I have a better chance winning the Boston Marathon than I do being with Steve _or_ Bucky, fire escape kiss aside.” 

Face softening, Jane reached out to squeeze Darcy’s arm. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Chest thumping heavily with love for her best friend, Darcy gave Jane a smile as she reached out to pat Jane’s hand. “You’re adorable and I love you, but I promise you that it’s never gonna happen.” 

“Okay,” Jane said, her hand dropping. 

The lack of belief in that single word was heavy, and Darcy frowned. “I mean it. We’re just friends.” 

“I believe you.” 

Darcy could tell that Jane was only placating her, but she let it fall quiet in the lab again while Jane grabbed a print out and began scanning it. The idea of her being _romantic_ with Steve or Bucky was absurd. She was a lab monkey, and they were fucking _Super Heroes_. The math just didn’t add up. They were friends who were getting closer every day, but they were still _just friends_. Jane was definitely reading into things that weren’t there. Her bond with Bucky had been forged in the elevator, and while she knew the elevator fiasco had moved her and Bucky closer together, it still didn’t mean there was anything _there_. He’d never said anything, and Darcy hoped she was good enough at reading signals that she wouldn’t have missed it. 

And Steve was… he was _Steve_. There was tension between them, but it was _definitely_ not of the sexual variety. At least on his end. She’d had more than enough dreams about the blond, and she had a very good imagination, but just like with Bucky, he’d never given her any sign that there was more there. 

_Friends_. Just friends. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Darcy was pulled out of her inner monologue at Jane’s question, her lips nearly worried to the point of blood, and glanced up in her best friend’s direction. “Depends on the topic, I guess, but give it a shot.” 

“Was he a good kisser?” 

Face pulling back in scandalized shock, Darcy brought a hand to her chest. “Jane Amelia Foster, what on _earth_ has gotten into you?” 

“I’m a scientist,” Jane answered with a shrug of her shoulders. “I crave data.” 

“You’re such a nerd.” 

“And _you_ didn’t answer the question.” 

“I don’t kiss and tell.” 

This time it was Jane that gasped in offense. “I told you everything about Thor. _Everything_.” 

“I’m aware,” Darcy said, lips curling into a smirk as Jane glared at her. “And thankful. Does he know that you told me - _hey!_ ” She barely dodged the stuffed amoeba plushie that Jane threw in her direction, eyes widening as they stared at each other. Darcy was the first to break, though, and she laughed before grabbing the soft missle from the floor. 

She had half a mind to chuck it right back at her best friend, but Darcy chose to be the bigger woman. This wasn’t hard, as Jane was a very, very tiny pocket-sized human. “It was nice,” she finally said, her cheeks heating at the memory. “Wasn’t too much pressure or saliva. Very soft lips. He put his hands in my hair.” 

“Uh-oh,” Jane murmured, watching her friend blush. “Isn’t that your thing?” 

Darcy dipped her chin in Jane’s direction. “They call them ‘kinks’ now, Janey, and yes, it’s one of them. But I just like hair, okay?” 

“Like Bucky’s? Who you pet for almost the entire movie.” 

Darcy’s jaw dropped. Had she been that obvious? Obvious enough that others might have seen something and read it in the wrong way? “It was really soft, okay?” 

“Like Steve’s lips?” 

“ _Jane!_ What has gotten _into_ you? Did you even _watch_ the movie, or were you just staring at me the whole time?” 

“I was between Thor and Dr. Banner. I was a little distracted.” 

“Not enough, obviously. How about you keep it in your pants and we get back to work?” This time, when Jane lifted her hand and threw Darcy a rude gesture, Darcy _did_ let the amoeba fly through the air toward the astrophysicist, enjoying the scream of annoyance that sounded in the lab. 

“You seemed pretty chipper during the movie.”

Steve glanced up at Natasha’s words, seeing an entire conversation in the way her green eyes were flashing. Over the years, Steve had gotten good at reading her face, despite the masks she could wear. He looked away, continuing to focus on wrapping his hands, passing the tape around and between each finger. “If that’s a veiled reference to something, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“The new girl,” Natasha said, her face showing no change as she waited for Steve to be ready. “Lewis.”

Ignoring the way his heart sped at just her name, Steve raised an eyebrow and glanced up at his sparring partner. “What about her?”

“You just looked pretty chummy. All three of you, really.”

He could tell there was something she was getting to, and Steve felt the first flush of exasperation. “Romanoff.”

“Don’t ‘Romanoff’ me, Rogers,” Natasha rasped, her gaze steady. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

Steve straightened, a sigh passing his lips as he shook his head. “What do you want me to say?”

“Do you like her?”

Not sure where this line of questioning was going, Steve grabbed a towel and ran it over his face. This wasn’t the first time Natasha had decided his romantic life needed to be discussed. Before Bucky she’d tried setting him up, unsuccessfully, on plenty of dates. Now, it seemed, she had a new mission. “She’s just a friend, Nat.”

“Is that all?”

Steve could only assume that there was a reason for Natasha’s questions, but she was holding it close to her chest, like she did with almost everything else. He saw something in her eyes, something that made him frown. “What is this? Why the 3rd degree?”

One of Natasha’s shoulders lifted and fell gracefully, like almost everything else she did. “Just want to make sure my friends are happy.”

This time it was Steve who raised an eyebrow and gave her a disbelieving expression. “Seems like it’s more than that.”

“I know Bucky was struggling,” Natasha said, vindicated when she saw the flash of memory behind Steve’s blue eyes, “and I know it got better after we returned from Wakanda. Was that her?”

Honestly, Steve wasn’t sure these were questions that he had the ability or right to answer. The friendship that had grown between Bucky and Darcy left him with quite a few questions, too. Since he’d started joining them for breakfast, Steve had been struck by how _strong_ the friendship was between the pair. He knew stressful situations could strengthen bonds, but it seemed more than that.

For the past few weeks, Steve had watched his best friend reemerge from the darkness. It was a little rusty, but Bucky’s laugh had returned. His smirk. His sense of humor. The dashing, charming, dark-haired boy Steve’d fallen in love with on the sticky Brooklyn streets was pushing through the blackness. Steve could see him shining through the cracks, almost free. “She was the one that helped him in the elevator, yes.”

“So she has something to do with him being better?”

“He’s also started seeing someone. A therapist.”

“But the _therapist_ wasn’t petting Bucky’s hair during the entire movie.”

“Nat.”

The warning in Steve’s voice was there, but Natasha accepted it and held her palms toward the soldier, showing she was unarmed. “All I’m saying is that you both looked better, and if that’s thanks to her…”

“You gonna thank her?”

“Should I?” When Steve sighed and directed his gaze down, Natasha took a step closer to the blond. “You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it? She gets along with Bucky, fits in pretty well with the entire group...”

The frown on Steve’s face grew deeper, and he looked up at her with slowly narrowing eyes. “I figured you’d be hesitant to let someone new into our world.”

“I think a little more estrogen might be nice to even out all the testosterone and egos. She’s been vetted. She knows Thor. For whatever reason, Clint’s all for it. Even Stark seems to like her.”

Steve watched Natasha’s eyes flash in his direction, unsure what was fueling this reaction to a single three hour period of time. “So, what? I should go shopping for a ring?”

“Bit of a stretch from what I was suggesting, but if you feel you’re ready -”

“Natasha.”

“ _Steve_.” Something in her voice stopped his, and he looked over at Natasha with apprehensive eyes. “Think of everything we’ve seen. Despite you and Bucky’s second chance, you know nothing’s promised. Holding yourself back because you’re scared helps no one.”

“I’m not _scared_ ,” Steve attempted to explain. “Darcy is great, and what she’s got with Bucky is great, but that doesn’t mean we’re more than friends. I know you’re just looking out for us, but I think you’re reading further into things that you need -”

“Laura asked me to move in.”

The interruption had successfully stopped Steve’s speech, and he looked over at Natasha with raised eyebrows. There was something on her face, something visceral and real, and he found himself worried about her next words. “Wow, that’s… that’s a big step.”

“I’m terrified,” Natasha whispered, fingernails digging into her palms. Showing this much vulnerability was a big risk, but she trusted Steve. More than almost anyone. “The kids are old enough that they understand. They’ll see us together. They’ll _know_.” 

“I know,” Steve said, glancing over when she took a heavy seat on the bench next to him, “but you’ve been there their whole lives. I think they probably already know in some way.” 

“What if I mess up?” Natasha asked, her voice dripping with fear. “What if I do or say something in front of the kids? What if someone from my past finds the house and -”

“You can’t think like that, Nat,” Steve said, reaching out to wrap her hand in his, and squeezing. “I’ve seen you with those kids. They adore you.”

“I know,” Natasha said, more to herself than to him, like his words were just ones she’d been repeating over and over to herself.

“And I’ve seen you with Laura.”

Natasha went quiet for a moment, like the next words that came out of her mouth were incredibly important. “She was never for me,” she said, voice soft. “She was Clint’s. I knew she could give him a good life, and that she’d be fine with me in it somehow. This…” She shook her head, ignoring the tears that began to pool in her eyes, glancing to the man on her left. “Steve, this’ll change everything.”

Steve squeezed her hand again, wishing he could erase some of the fear from her eyes. “Do you love her?” She went still at his side, and a memory sparked in his mind. He remembered what she was like when Barton had been turned by Loki. It’d nearly killed her. Giving someone else that much power would be hard for the woman who’d made a career by living in the shadows.

“I do,” Natasha said weakly, but her jaw tightened and she continued. “I _do_ love her, I just thought it was in a specific way, but now…”

“Now you’ve got a glimpse of something you want but never thought you’d have, and you’re afraid to take the wrong step and lose it all.” He felt his own words hit him squarely in the chest, but ignored the hypocrisy he tasted on the back of his tongue.

“I don’t want to ruin what we have. It works. Where we’re at now works.”

“But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be better.”

Natasha’s eyes swung toward Steve’s, looking at the blond for a long moment before a ghost of a smile lifted her lips. “I came in here to needle you about your love life, and now we’re talking about mine. I don’t know if I like this change.”

“Change is scary.”

“ _Ты говоришь мне_ ,” Natasha murmured under her breath. She pulled her hand from Steve’s and brought her hands to her lips, fingers tapping for a second before she looked back toward him. “I hate being vulnerable like this.”

Steve nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. He was doing his best to focus on Natasha, but he couldn’t help but see similarities in the dilemma she was experiencing. “Then you’ve got to surround yourself with people who’d never take advantage of you like that.”

“Laura would never,” Natasha said immediately, more confidence in her voice than she’d shown in the past hour.

“I know,” Steve assured her. He’d only met Laura a handful of times, but he knew she was warm, and kind, and it was clear Natasha loved her, too.

“And I don’t think Lewis would, either.” When Steve looked over at her, his lips parting in skepticism, Natasha reached for his hand again. “She was locked in a metal tube with a panicking super soldier assassin and came out the other side unscathed. In fact, things _improved_. That’s got to be worth something.”

“It is.”

“So? What are you going to do about it, Rogers? You gonna dip a toe in, or is the water too cold for you?”

Steve snorted with laughter. “You realize I lived for seventy years in cold water, right?”

Natasha smiled and rose to her feet, stretching her arms above her head as he came to stand, too. “Yeah. And you’ve never let any of us forget it. Now get up and let me take out my frustrations on you.”

Bucky watched birds chase each other in the snow covered trees, chirping brightly in the sunlight. He let out a sigh and turned back to the man sitting across from him, the therapists pen on top of the legal pad as they sat in silence. The question _Eric_ had asked was hard to swallow, and he’d avoided answering it directly by looking away, but it appeared the man wasn’t so easily dissuaded.

“I’m not here to fix you, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and sat back on the comfortable couch. “Thought that was your job.”

Eric smiled softly, setting aside his pad and pen. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and made his face level with Bucky’s. “There is a difference between fixing you, and helping you learn how to heal.”

“How?”

“Well, _fixing_ someone means that scar tissue builds up, the wounds close, and they’re back where they were before. The same broken person, but with a few more fissures in their skin. _Doctors_ fix people every day.

 _Healing_ , though, means you understand that the grief and pain is finite, and you have the skills to get through the rough waters. That’s why I can only help you heal so much. The rest is up to you.”

The therapist’s words stuck in Bucky’s mind, trying to find fault with what the man was saying. He knew very little about how this was supposed to work, but he supposed the man was right. When he’d been The Soldier, the bullet holes and ripped skin had just been lacquered over, fixed quickly without thought of how they’d been inflicted. It was about getting him back into peak fighting shape, never about actual healing.

Bucky knew the guilt he carried would never be truly gone, but if this man could help him learn how to deal with the weight of his past, maybe he’d be able to be more _normal_. Not just a shadow of a man, like he’d told Steve he was. “...I have a lot of scars.”

Eric smiled and sat back in his chair. “I know, and I’m here to help, but I want to make sure you have realistic expectations of what’s going to happen in this room. I know you don’t know me yet, but I need your trust. I know that’s not easy for you, I do, but that’s where we have to start. I will listen, and push you, but the strongest thing you can do is to keep coming back, even when you know it’s going to be hard.”

“I don’t like to talk about… everything.”

“It’s okay. That’s okay, Sergeant Barnes. We can sit here until you’re ready to talk.”

When the man went quiet, just like he said he would, the frown on Bucky’s face grew. “Seems like a waste of time.”

“Not to me.”

Bucky blinked at the man, trying to decide what to make of him. Eric Rambeau had been suggested by Wilson, who’d asked around for the best person to treat PTSD, and specialized in loss and trauma, both of which Bucky carried in spades. He’d been skeptical of the choice at first, but now that they were in their third meeting, he was able to see why the therapist was known as a strong, calm man, with great bedside manner.

“Let’s start here: what do you hope to gain out of these appointments?”

It was a loaded question, especially when he knew his words would be scrutinized by the therapist. Bucky tried to decide what was one thing he wanted to see better, _one thing_ that he wanted to improve. “I have trouble sleeping.”

“Why?”

Pretty sure the man could figure it out on his own, but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt - the most ‘trust’ he’d be able to extend to the therapist until he felt more comfortable - Bucky shrugged a shoulder. “Nightmares. It gets too quiet at night.”

“Quiet enough that you don’t have a distraction to keep your mind was going to that dark place?” When Bucky nodded at him, Eric gave him a smile. “Sleep is funny. We grow up having dreams of flying and winning the World Series, so when we have nightmares, it feels like our own mind is against us. They’ve taken something that was soothing and turned it into pain.”

“It feels like my own mind’s betraying me.” It was hard for Bucky to admit that much, but as the words fell past his lips, he tasted the truth of it. 

“That’s a good description. When you have these nightmares, what do you do?”

“Usually I would go straight to the gym.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Working out your frustrations with physical activity is actually a pretty good coping mechanism, as long as you don’t go overboard with it.” When Bucky’s lips twitched upward, Eric looked at him for a long moment before speaking. “But you said you _would_ go to the gym. What changed?”

“There was an… incident.” 

“What kind of incident?”

Bucky fidgeted in his seat, the vulnerable and panicked memories of that hour in the elevator still fresh in his mind. “Elevator got stuck. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, and I couldn’t breathe.”

“How’d you get through it?”

“There was a woman in the elevator with me. She helped me stay calm.”

“She was your distraction.” When Bucky’s glare pointed in his direction, Eric lifted his hand in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, I promise. If she was able to keep you level, then she was successful. She was what you needed to distract you from the panic and anxiety. What did you do after that?”

The fact that Bucky had been seconds away from launching himself at the therapist for even _suggesting_ that Darcy was a distraction still coated Bucky’s tongue. He wasn’t sure why his reaction had been so primal, but as his heart beat slowed, he tried to understand his own emotions, and came up empty. The man didn’t know Darcy and hadn’t been trying to criticize her, and once again, Bucky gave him the benefit of the doubt. “We’ve been meeting in the mornings and talking.”

“And you think this has helped?”

Bucky thought long and hard about the question. On the surface, he knew that he’d been doing better in the few months since beginning his friendship with Darcy, but it wasn’t _just_ her. Since the coffee shop was on the ground floor, their meetings gave him a chance to leave the bubble he’d built upstairs, the one that kept him from truly living. Through Darcy, he’d found himself opening up to more people. People he wouldn’t have thought possible. “I know people’s names,” he answered Eric’s question, “and they smile when they see me.”

“So you’ve put yourself out there and it seems to be helping.”

“Yeah.”

When Bucky went quiet, Eric’s gaze stayed steady, his face pleasant. “ _But_ ,” he started, watching the soldier’s eyes flick up to his, “but you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Bucky nodded at him, not ready to voice that feeling just yet. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you that after a few sessions you’ll be ‘solved’ and won’t need to see me anymore. Mental health is something that needs regular check ins. You’re going to slip, Sargeant. That’s just the nature of the beast. You’re not going to wake up one morning and suddenly be cured. It’s a journey, and I’m here to make sure you have everything you need to travel the path.”

As he stared at the therapist, Bucky looked for any insincerity, any kind of ulterior motive, but just as Wilson had told him and Steve, it honestly appeared like the man only wanted to help. Bucky worried, though, that the ‘bad days’ Eric had alluded to were going to more ‘bad’ than even the therapist knew. Bad days for other people might mean just staying in bed all day and avoiding the world.

Bucky had already done that. A lot.

No, Bucky’s version of a ‘bad day’ was a little more globally frightening than he’d like to admit. Breaking down in the elevator had proven just how tenuous his grasp was, and Bucky never wanted to put himself into such a vulnerable situation again. If that meant opening up to this man, then it’d be worth it. “Pretty words.”

“Thank you.”

“I am feeling better,” Bucky said, wanting to hold onto the past few months and the way he’d started to feel _safe_ again. Whether it was through Darcy, or Steve, or just being _home_ , all Bucky wanted to do was get better. Truly _better_. He couldn’t lie anymore, least of all to himself.

“I’m glad. Now my job is to prepare you for the days when you’re not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like everything in the world right now is on fire, and it's hard to hold onto hope.  
> I vacillate between anger, and helplessness, and grief, and the swing is exhausting.  
> It'd be way too easy to throw up my hands and let my heart be turned with apathy.  
> Apathy is sometimes easier to swallow then rage.  
> But the world _needs_ you. It needs your voice, and your heart, and your impact.  
> Lift your voice, even if you think you won't be heard over the din.  
> Lift your hands, showing that you're _here_ and you're not going anywhere.  
> Lift your spirit, because sometimes it's the only thing your muscles can handle.  
> We're built of stardust, galaxies and nebulas in our veins.  
> We're stronger than steel and lead, and our rallying cry will not be ignored.  
> Senseless violence is senseless, but _we_ are not.  
> We can do this.  
> Together.  
> 


	25. Inside Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> Hello, my lovies. I hope you had a good week!  
> I know I say this every week, but my guys. My dudes. My beautiful fandom!framily...  
> ... you're just freaking _amazing_.  
> Getting to come home and post this for you is one of the highlights of my week.  
> So this is me, screaming my love out toward you through ones and zeros!  
> <3
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

_Bend your chest open so I can reach your heart_  
_I need to get inside, or I'll start a war_  
_Wanna look at the pieces that make you who you are_  
_I wanna build you up and pick you apart_  
_Let me see the dark sides as well as the bright_  
_I'm gonna pick your brain and get to know your thoughts_  
_So I can read your mind when you don't wanna talk_  
_And can I touch your face before you go?_  
_I collect your scales but you don't have to know_  
_Let me see the dark sides as well as the bright_  


**Inside Out - Madilyn Paige**

“Underwear?”

“Packed plenty.”

“Socks?”

Jane frowned. “Who wears socks anymore?”

“Birth control?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, unless your uterus is open for business.” When she looked up from her magazine to see a weird expression on Jane’s face, Darcy’s heart started beating faster and her jaw fell open. “JANE AMELIA FOSTER, ARE YOU -”

“ _No!_ No, I’m not, I just forgot them.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Like, forgot them _now_ , or have forgotten them for days and are doing crazy panicked math in your head?”

“I meant now. I forgot them now. To pack.”

A sigh of relief lifted and dropped Darcy’s shoulders. “ _Fuck_. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“I’m not ready,” Jane said with a shake of her head, gesturing toward Darcy as if it was something that involved both of their approvals. “Thor and I, we haven’t –“

“Oh, totally. I know,” Darcy assured her best friend.

“Not that I _wouldn’t_ , I’m just -”

“Jane, you’re preaching to the choir here. I think _I’d_ happy-cry more than you would.”

“You do cry easily.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with crying. I just don’t like it when you do it.”

“Awwww.”

“Go finish packing. And pack your anti-baby pills, unless you’re planning on pulling the goalie!” When Jane rolled her eyes and started toward her bedroom, Darcy turned back to the magazine in her hands before her eyes widened and she shouted toward Jane’s room. “ _Oh_! Deodorant!” Hearing Jane swear under her breath made a smile bloom on Darcy’s face, and she flipped through the shiny pages toward the back where the horoscopes were.

“You know, if you wanted to –“

“No,” Darcy said, leaning her head back on the couch and looking at Jane upside down, “I do _not_ want to come with you to see your family. Even _you_ don’t want to see your family.”

“I could use the back-up.”

Darcy frowned. “Your cousin will be there. The one... what’s his name?”

“Todd.”

“Yeah! Todd! Didn’t he just take a job with Greenpeace?” Jane nodded. “Uncle Greg is going to hate that.”

“Yes,” Jane said, her smile taking on a devilish tint, “yes he will.”

“You enjoy yourself, and I’m always just a text away.”

“ _Mmmmhmmmm_ ,” Jane hummed, pulling her carry-on behind her. “Don’t blow up the lab while I’m gone.”

“I promise nothing!” Darcy shouted toward the door. 

Jane laughed as she pulled the door closed behind her, leaving Darcy in a living space that was all hers for the next six days. She threw the magazine on the coffee table and climbed to her feet, wandering toward her bathroom. After looking through her tote of nail polishes and picking out a fun golden color, she splashed her face with water then put a pore-cleansing strip across her nose.

She was completely unsurprised when she heard a knock at the front door. Rolling her eyes, Darcy made her way back into the living room. She was already talking before the door was open completely. “Dr. Foster, you’d forget your head if it wasn’t –“ 

Except it _wasn’t_ Jane on the other side of the door. Instead, she blinked widened eyes at Bucky and Steve. “Oh! Hi!”

Bucky could tell that they’d surprised her, and when his eyes took in her appearance, he tried as hard as possible to keep a straight face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve echoed, feeling his stomach tighten in uncertainty. Bucky had assured him that they didn’t _need_ to call to warn her they were coming, but judging by the size of her eyes, his best friend had made a mistake.

“Hi,” Darcy repeated again as she blinked in surprise, “what are you –“ 

Suddenly remembering that she had a strip on her nose, Darcy turned away from them and ripped it off, nose crinkling at the pain before turning back and attempting to appear nonchalant. She pulled at the hem of the t-shirt she’d stolen from Thor years ago, hoping to pull it down so it didn’t show the entirety of her legs. “Hi. What’s up?”

Bucky’s lips were slanted when his swung his gaze toward Steve. The blond’s cheeks were pink, as were the tips of his ears, and it brought so many memories to the front of Bucky’s mind that he had to keep from laughing. He turned back to Darcy, leaning against the door jamb. “Steve didn’t like the idea of you being alone tonight.”

Brows furrowing, Darcy stopped fidgeting with her shirt and looked over at Steve. “Huh?”

Though he wanted to turn and glare at Bucky, Steve kept his eyes on Darcy as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “We were getting ready to head out for dinner, and I remembered you saying that Dr. Foster was going to be out of town this week, and since we were already heading out, we figured –“

“You want to come out with us tonight?”

Looking between the two – Bucky’s warm and self-satisfied smirk, Steve’s blushing cheeks and endearing expression – Darcy wasn’t sure what to make of the offer. She glanced down at what she was wearing, then back up. “Uh...”

“You don’t have to,” Steve said, seeing the uncertainty flashing in her eyes.

Darcy watched Steve’s face fall. “ _Yes_ ,” she assured him, reaching out to squeeze Steve’s arm, hoping to get rid of the doubt that colored the cerulean, “I _want_ to. Dinner sounds great.”

Feeling vindicated that he’d been right about Darcy’s answer, Bucky nodded at her. “We can give you time to get ready.”

Eyes narrowing, Darcy crossed her arms over her chest. The over-sized t-shirt lifted higher, but she didn’t care. “What are you saying? You wouldn’t want to be seen with me looking like this?”

Feeling like things had just gone sideways, Steve’s eyes widened. “No, not at all, you look –“ When Darcy raised an eyebrow at him, he felt his cheeks heat even more. “You’re, I mean, you look... beautiful.”

Bucky watched Darcy’s eyes light up at the compliment, and not for the first time since the three of them had begun spending time together, he wondered how Darcy was able to handle them both differently. She could be so forward and certain about herself with him, joking, and sharp, and strong. When he needed it, though, her voice would change and the comforting woman who’d kept him together in that elevator would emerge.

She wore completely opposite gloves with Steve. Not that she wouldn’t joke with him, as she did so often, but it was the subtle changes. Her face softened more, cheeks lighting with pink as a wave of shyness passed over her. It reminded him of Peggy; she had edges and refused to take anything but what was owed to her. Bucky had seen Peggy’s eyes when they looked at Steve. Darcy shone with strength, just a different flavor. “How much time do you need?”

“ _Uhhh_ ,” Darcy hummed, glancing at the clock above the TV. “A half hour? Maybe less.”

“It’s cold out so wear layers.” He felt Bucky look over at him, an incredulous expression on his face, but Steve ignored him and kept his eyes on Darcy.

Feeling like Steve might not have meant to say what he just had, in the _tone_ he had, Darcy nodded at him. “Okay. You guys can wait in here if you want. I’ll try and make it fast.”

Bucky followed her with his eyes until she vanished from sight into what he could only assume was her bedroom. Moving into the interior of the space, he felt Steve at his back. He shook his head as the blond pulled the door closed behind them. “You told her to wear layers?”

“It’s cold out,” Steve said, brows furrowing at Bucky’s laughter. “What?”

“You get a little scattered around her,” Bucky answered, Steve’s eyes flashing with annoyance. “It’s funny.”

“Funny how?” Steve asked, not appreciating the laughter being thrown his way.

“It’s just been awhile since I’ve seen you second-guessing yourself around someone.”

Steve felt like there was more for them to discuss, but he wasn’t sure now was the right time. “And I haven’t seen you smirk so much.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “She says funny things.”

He couldn’t really argue with Steve. Since he’d begun spending time with Darcy, he’d found himself finally recognizing the person in the mirror. Between Darcy’s heavy optimism, and his new therapist, Bucky felt like he finally had a hand on his anxiety. Darcy’d been a pinprick of light at the end of a dark tunnel, but it wasn’t just _light_ she gave him, but _confidence_.

He was more solid, more sure, and he’d funneled that energy into actually connecting with the people he saw every day. The people behind the counter at the coffee shop; the security guards that were always watchful; the men and women that worked beside him day by day finally had names, and stories, and he’d found himself engaging in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

The man who’d gone into that elevator with Darcy was not the same man that came out, and he wasn’t sure how to properly express his gratitude.

Maybe dinner was a good first step.

As he circled the room, Bucky peered at the little signs of life that had been left around. A piece of paper with what looked like a grocery list sat on a desk, held in place by a glass figurine of an otter. He was unsurprised to see that there were no dishes in the sink, and the memories of Steve and Darcy washing them together after the movie night made his lips turn up. His grey gaze landed on the bookshelf that took up one entire wall of the room, and the sheer number of tomes was intimidating. “That’s a lot of books.”

For once, Steve felt like _he_ knew something about Darcy that Bucky didn’t. He’d done the same time that night in her apartment, trying to get a better idea of who Darcy was. He knew a few photos and the titles of some books couldn’t tell you someone’s entire life story, but he liked to think that it gave a glimpse into what kind of person someone was. What he’d found was that Darcy was warm, and kind, and self-deprecating. She could narrow her focus on you until you felt like you were the only people in the entire world. It was an alluring trait, and he found himself smiling. “Dr. Foster makes them lug them every time they move.” When Bucky looked over at him with an eyebrow raised, Steve shrugged a shoulder. “She told me about it. Before.”

Recognition lit Bucky’s face, and he couldn’t help the way his lips turned up. “Right. On the night you didn’t come home. I remember.”

There was something in Bucky’s voice that made Steve frown. “What?”

Bucky held up his empty hands toward Steve. “Nothing.”

Unamused at how much joy Bucky was having at his expense, Steve crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the back of the couch. “ _What_?”

He’d opened his mouth to respond to Steve, but the words died on his tongue when Darcy emerged from her room. She’d changed into a black sweater that looked incredibly soft, dark blue jeans, and a pair of black suede boots. Her dark curls were piled onto the top of her head in a messy bun, somehow looking both comfortable and dressy at the same time. If she was wearing makeup, he could barely tell, but she’d added a pop of bright red lipstick, and Bucky found himself without words as both he and Steve stared.

Brushing her hands down the sweater Jane had gotten her for Christmas, Darcy cast a quick glance around the room to locate her purse, then looked up toward the boys. The expression on their faces made her pause, and she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, wondering if she’d overdressed. “Is this –“

“You look great,” Bucky said immediately, watching her gaze swing toward him, putting the truth of the statement in his eyes. He’d spent the last few months getting used to seeing her in comfortable clothes and obnoxiously loud hats, and while he loved how cozy their mornings were, the Darcy standing in front of him was a vision, and she stole the breath from his lungs. He felt Steve go still at his side, not needing to see his best friend to know the look on his face was one of quiet awe.

“Thanks,” Darcy said, unsure what to do with the looks on the men’s faces. Her stomach flipped as they blinked, their eyes looking her over from head to toe. “Will it work with where –“

“Yes.” Just like it always did, Steve’s heartbeat hammered in his chest, words almost impossible. He felt like an idiot, standing there staring at her, but he’d always been thrown around women he found attractive, and what Darcy was wearing made his tongue feel like it was too big for his mouth. There was something classic about the look – dark hair, red lips, black sweater, soft and curvy – and he found himself wondering if the sweater was as soft as it looked.

“Alright,” Darcy said, shifting under the weight of their gazes. “Where did you gentlemen have in mind, and how are we getting there?”

Darcy wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but her night of nail polish and mud masks had definitely not included driving shotgun through snowy New York streets. It also hadn’t included the men taking her to dinner, but Darcy just couldn’t find it in herself to be upset. Not when there were lights on every tree and big red bows on every light pole.

“ _Santa_ ,” she gasped, watching both men follow her line of sight. They’d already spotted four of the red-adorned demigods, each of them with varying skin tones and ornate costumes.

As the snow fell and they pulled up to a red light, Steve glanced to his right, watching Darcy sit back in her seat with a smile on her face. He was glad he’d mentioned Darcy when they were deciding what to do for dinner. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy spending alone time with Bucky, because every minute they were together was a gift, but he liked the effect Darcy had on Bucky and, if he was being honest, the way she made _him_ feel, too. He found himself wondering why Darcy got so excited at a glimpse of Santa Claus. “Did your family not celebrate Christmas?”

Attention swinging toward Steve, Darcy shrugged a shoulder. “Not really. I mean, you kind of _have_ to when you’re younger, but by the time I was eight, I’d already given up on things like Santa. Don’t get me wrong, there are parts I love about the holidays. _Giving_ gifts to people is fun, getting to watch their faces light up. The food is good. The weather and the rushing around? Not so much.”

“Crowds aren’t exactly fun for us either,” Bucky said from the backseat. He was more than fine with Steve driving them, and sitting in the back gave him the chance to focus on the two people he wanted. Earlier in the day, he and Steve had passed their motorcycles in the garage, and his mind had been barraged by thoughts. _The motorcycle growling, feeling the vibrations against his hand where it curved over the throttle, Steve on his own bike to his left, Darcy in the sidecar he’d been looking for._ It was enough to form a smile on his lips, and the smile grew when Darcy glanced back at him.

“Yeah, I bet,” she hummed. Darcy couldn’t imagine what it was like for them in public. She knew Bucky didn’t enjoy it due to his anxiety, but she’d seen first hand how horrible people could be to them. If she ever saw that girl again, the one that’d tried to take advantage of Steve, she was fairly certain she’d need to be bailed out of jail. She didn’t consider herself a physical fighter by any stretch of imagination, but _fuck_ did she want to punch that woman in the throat. Deciding she wanted to talk about _happy_ things, she reached out and pinched Bucky’s hand where it was gripping the back of her seat. “What about you guys? Did your family do much for the holidays?”

“When we were younger,” Bucky answered. “After Sarah died,” he continued, seeing Steve turn back to the road at the mention of his mother, “Steve spent some time with my family, but then I enlisted, and...“

“And that’s when you lost your dad,” Darcy hummed. They’d talked about Bucky’s family before, enough for Darcy to know that things had been rough on them during the years. World War I, the Great Depression, then World War II? It just didn’t seem the men could catch a break.

Bucky nodded. “Went to Europe. Never really came home.”

She could see the emotion in Bucky’s eyes before he stamped it all down, and Darcy reached out to squeeze his hand with hers, thumb brushing over the metal. “Hey, you’re home now, right?” The soft smile he gave her was like a breath of fresh air, and her lips curled in response. “I mean, think about it: all the things that’ve happened, all the hard times, and now you’re _here_ , in a car with your best friend and a coffee-loving scientist wrangler heading into the city for dinner during Christmas. _And_ it’s 2019! That’s got a count for something, right?”

Steve still marveled at the optimism Darcy seemed to carry in spades. He had half a mind to ask her how she did it but stopped himself. Seconds later, _her_ words repeated over in his head. Darcy was _right_. The fact that he was here with Bucky and her _was_ amazing, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough reason to stay quiet. Bucky seemed to know so much about her, and now it was his turn. “Did you inherit your sunny disposition from your mom or your dad?”

“My mom. Abigail Lewis was a force to be reckoned with. So smart. And driven. And an actual, _literal_ genius.”

“What did she do?”

Darcy’s lips turned up. She _loved_ talking to people about her mom. “She studied thermonuclear dynamics.”

“Wow,” Steve said, eyes wide when he looked over to see the bare and honest pride in Darcy’s face. “Where did she work?”

“Some lab.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I never visited her there, though. I was too young, and when you’re dealing with nuclear material? Yeah. No thanks. She had a lab at home, too, but it was smaller. And without anything that could make me grow extra toes. It was actually how I first learned that I liked corralling scientists.”

The idea of a tiny Darcy going on her tiptoes to see what her mother was doing flashed in Steve’s head, and his lips lifted in response. “But you didn’t want to be one yourself?” She laughed and shook her head, which told him as much as he needed. “But you went to college?”

“For a bit. I never graduated.”

“Why?”

Darcy let out a sigh. She had memories of continually reassuring Jane that choosing to work with her was _worth_ not having a degree, and she put that same confidence in her voice for Steve. “Well, I took the internship with Janey and Selvig, and when it was time for me to go back to school, I realized I’d already _found_ what I wanted to do, which was help Jane and Vigs unlock the secrets of the universe.”

“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”

At Bucky’s words, Darcy physically turned around in her seat so she could glare at him. “You know what, Barnes? How about you shut up?”

“Kind of want you to come make me.”

“I _will_ turn this car around,” Steve said, his ‘Captain’s’ voice bleeding into his tone. It was softened by both Bucky and Darcy laughing, the warm sound sliding over his skin like velvet. When they’d settled, he dove back into the conversation. “And your dad? What’d he do?”

“As I said before, Mr. Rogers, it’s the year 2019, and single mothers are a thing.”

Worried that he might have said something to offend her, Steve glanced over at her with apologies. “I didn’t mean to imply –“

“Steve,” Darcy said, chin dipping in his direction, “it’s fine, I promise. I’m just giving you a hard time. I never knew my dad. My mom stayed pretty quiet about it. Said it was one of those things that was never meant to last. She was always really good about making me feel wanted. I never felt like I was missing out.”

Taking a right, Steve navigated them through the city, ignoring the horn behind him when he slowed at a yellow light instead of risking it. “I didn’t know my father either,” he said, feeling Darcy look over at him. “He died overseas in World War I.”

“Oh, Steve, I’m sorry,” Darcy said, reaching past the center console so she could squeeze his knee.

“Sarah Rogers was the only parent the punk ever needed,” Bucky said, leaning forward in his seat. “She raised half the damn neighborhood.”

Darcy’s smile was warm when she turned toward Bucky. “Sounds like quite the woman.” Both of their smiles made one of own, and she finally realized where they were headed. “Hey, you lived in Brooklyn, yeah? Have you been back to see what it looks like now?”

“I have.”

“Yeah, Steve, believe it or not, I’m aware,” she teased, watching the soft embarrassment fill his features. It seemed they’d gotten over the awkwardness that’d been between them, the knowledge that they’d met _before_ that morning in the coffee shop and she’d chosen not to seek him out, and part of her was glad it’d gone without a conversation. The other part of her, though, still felt that guilt and wondered if she’d hurt his feelings. It hadn’t been his issue, but _hers_ , and she hoped he knew that. 

She looked over her shoulder at Bucky in the back. “What about you, Buck?” When he shook his head, she glanced out the window. “We could drive around after dinner. See how much it’s changed.” When she realized that it might be hard for him to go back to a place that held so many memories, her expression took on a tint of uncertainty. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“After dinner?” At Darcy’s smile, Bucky gave her a nod of his head. When she looked away, however, he felt the expression fade from his face. He wasn’t entirely sure that going back to Brooklyn to see all the things he lost was a good idea, but he’d found it hard to tell Darcy no. Especially when those hazel eyes were blinking at him and she was worrying those crimson lips with her teeth. “I’ll get to show you where Steve liked getting beat up.”

“But isn’t that _everywhere_?” Darcy asked, eyes widening in faux shock when Steve looked over at her with a roll of his eyes. Settling back in her seat, a grin taking permanent residence on her face, Darcy tried to settle the butterflies that were swarming in her stomach.

Dinner had been a festive affair. The entire waitstaff at the small taqueria were wearing ugly Christmas sweaters with _literal_ bells on them. The place was small enough that they didn’t have to worry about being mobbed by people; Darcy was convinced it was a Christmas miracle that Bucky and Steve hadn’t been approached for photos or handshakes, as she’d seen how insane the crowds could be for them.

When the staff brought them tequila shots, she’d watched the boys accept them gratefully even though they knew it would do nothing for them. Darcy had knocked her own back, then taken both of the boys’ when they slid the shot glasses in her direction. With the tequila and nearly a half-dozen tacos warming her belly, she’d watched the super soldiers eat more tacos in one sitting than she thought humanly possible. 

And she’d seen _Thor_ eat.

They’d nearly run the place out of their homemade corn tortillas, but all in all, the meal had been a major success. She felt as big as a whale as they made their way out the front door and back onto the freshly-snowed fluffy city streets, and glanced over at Bucky as he let out a loud belch. “Well then.”

“‘S good,” Bucky said with a shrug of his shoulders, watching as Steve rolled his eyes in his peripheral vision.

Steve had been following behind Bucky and Darcy, taking a quick glance at his phone to make sure no one had tried to reach him. It felt like the restaurant had been on a different _planet_. In a faded booth near the kitchen, he’d spent the past two hours eating tacos and laughing at the stories Darcy regaled them with. She was expressive, using different voices for certain people, and for those scant moments, Steve felt the weight that was constantly on his shoulders shift the slightest bit. As if her spirit was somehow contagious, he felt lighter than he had in weeks.

He grunted when his body slammed into Darcy’s, somehow missing that she’d come to a full stop in the middle of the sidewalk. He placed a hand on her shoulder, eyebrows knitting together. “Something wrong?”

Bucky turned back to find Darcy glancing up and down the street. “Darce?”

“We’re not that far from where you lived, right?” At Bucky’s head tilt, she pointed to the streetlights. “Why drive when we can just walk?” She had a feeling she wasn’t making much sense - probably all the tequila in her system - but at the moment, walking around Brooklyn sounded like a _great_ idea.

“It’s cold out,” Bucky said with a frown, coming to stand next to Darcy and Steve.

“I’ve got a coat,” Darcy said, as if he didn’t know, “and gloves. I can put on a hat.”

“Yeah, a hat with ears on it.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t make it any less of a hat.”

“Doesn’t really matter if you freeze your ass off.”

“Maybe you should worry less about my ass, Barnes.”

Now used to the way they barbed back and forth, Steve turned with a shake of his head, a smirk slanting his lips. He had a feeling he knew who would win in a verbal spat, and spun to the west in preparation for their journey.

When the streetlight turned green, Darcy tore her eyes from where they’d been glaring at Bucky, watching as Steve began to cross. She shared a quick look with Bucky, both of their lips lifting. Baiting each other was one of their favorite things to do, and it’d only gotten better after the addition of Steve. He was a blast to play off of, and Darcy couldn’t help the flash of happiness that warmed her chest, rushing so she could catch up and twine their arms together and slow his steps. When Bucky fell into step beside her, she glanced over at him. “So, anything familiar yet?”

“Not really,” Bucky said, directing his eyes to the brick buildings on either side of the street. “The buildings look the same, but it’s all different.”

Darcy frowned. “Different good, or different bad?”

“Not sure yet.”

“That’s an okay answer. Change is hard,” Darcy hummed, fingers reaching out to pinch Bucky’s arm.

“Not like we haven’t had enough of it,” Steve said under his breath, cheeks heating when Darcy looked over at him with large eyes.

“Hopefully that’ll change now, right?” Darcy’s voice was louder than normal, bouncing off the bricks around them, fueled by alcohol and tacos. “You’re home. Your names are cleared. Technically you can do anything you want.”

Bucky snorted softly. “You trying to become a motivational speaker?”

Darcy glared at Bucky. “I’m motivated to have you kiss my ass, Barnes.” When he just chuckled and shook his head, she rolled her eyes and focused on the man to her right. “What about you? Anything you’re thinking of?”

Glancing over at Darcy and finding both of them looking in his direction, Steve wasn’t sure what to say. He might have spoken to Tony about what he wanted to do, but it wasn’t something he’d talked about with Bucky. He’d wanted to wait until it was _real_ , until it was actually happening, but looking into those hazel and grey eyes, he couldn’t come up with a good reason to _not_ tell them. “I think I want to form a group that helps people with PTSD.”

He watched something pass behind Bucky’s eyes then tore his gaze away, not sure he’d have been able to see any kind of doubt in his love’s eyes.

Eyes widening, Darcy slowed their steps even further, jaw dropping open again. “ _Really?_?”

Steve nodded. “I’ve seen what soldiers have available when they get home, and it’s not enough. Add in first responders, and you’re got a whole group of people without someone to advocate for them. I think I want to be that person.”

“Steve, that’s amazing! Who better to shame this useless administration for their lack of compassion than Captain _Fucking_ America!” When Steve glanced down at their feet, Darcy realized what she’d said and her face fell. “Not that that’s the only thing you’ve got going for you. I just meant that your voice holds a little more sway than most people’s. You might actually be able to create real change!”

Grinning softly, Steve nodded. “That’s the hope.”

“That’s amazing. Steve. _So_ good. You’re going to be great!”

“Thanks.” He could practically feel the positive energy wafting from Darcy in waves, and he risked a glance in Bucky’s direction, unsure how his best friend would take the knowledge that Steve’s goal was to help other people like him. 

“... I didn’t know you wanted to do something like that,” Bucky said after a quiet moment, drawing Steve’s eyes toward him again.

“I’ve only talked with Tony about it. It’s still really early. He’s making calls and setting things up.”

For the first time since they returned home, Bucky could see a plan behind Steve’s eyes, a hope for a better future. The fact that his first love had seen how hard Bucky had been struggling, and had turned that worry into something _good_ and something _sincere_ , caused Bucky’s chest to constrict. “It’s a great idea, Steve. Really.” When Steve gave him a small smile, Bucky returned it. 

Looking back and forth between the two men, able to tell there was an entire silent conversation happening between them, Darcy just felt _happy_. They’d sought her out, extending an invitation, bought her dinner, and now they were going on a walking tour of their old neighborhood. It was definitely not how she’d seen her night going, but now she couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

Squeezing herself between them, she tugged them closer - because she was cold, but didn’t want to give Bucky the satisfaction of being right. “Alright, boys. Let’s do this.”

They spent over an hour walking the city streets. Bucky and Steve had recounted stories from their youth, pointing out specific places of interest. It was bittersweet, knowing Brooklyn was _so_ different than it’d been when they were children. It wasn’t _all_ bad, as a few non-profits had moved their offices into the area and were trying to revitalize the neighborhood.

After getting hot cocoa from a street vendor, they decided to take a stroll through Prospect Park. There were twinkling christmas lights in the trees lining the walking paths, holiday musics being pumped through speakers, and more dogs wearing sweaters than Darcy had ever seen.

“Brooklyn seems a lot bigger now,” Steve said after a quiet moment, eyes tracking a jogger as he ran toward them. 

“ _Everything_ is bigger now,” Darcy argued.

“Doesn’t mean it’s better.”

“Amen,” Darcy said, saluting Bucky with her cocoa before she slurped some from her cup. Her tongue darted out and caught a drop before it could roll down her chin. “I bet you were both terrors when you were younger.”

Bucky shook his head in mock defeat. “Guilty as charged.”

Steve sent a soft glare in Bucky’s direction. “Hey. Speak for yourself.”

An incredulous huff of air passed Bucky’s lips. “You got into more fights than anyone on the block!”

“But I was in the right every time.”

Darcy’s eyes widened comically large. “ _Every_ time?”

Steve didn’t flinch. “Yes. _Every_ time.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Darcy slowed to a stop on the path. “I mean, I’ve seen the pictures, but it’s still…” She rose onto her tiptoes so she could level a gloved hand next to his head. “You’re here _now_ , but back then you were here,” she continued, lowering her hand to just above her own head, biting on her tongue in concentration. “How did you _survive_?!”

“I had someone watching out for me.” When Bucky looked in his direction, Steve kept his gaze steady on his best friend. If their walk down memory lane had done anything, it’d cemented in Steve’s mind how much he’d fought for Bucky, and just how _right_ he’d been to do so.

As Bucky and Steve blinked at each other, Darcy realized she’d been standing there staring at them for longer than she should have, and since she couldn’t blame it on the tequila that was surely out of her system after their journey, she tore her eyes away. Looking to her right meant she could see the perfect outline of a snow angel someone had made earlier, it’s edges softening as more snow fell. With a grin, she thrust her cup in Bucky’s direction. “Can you hold this for a second?”

Bucky took the cup with a frown. “Why -” He watched in confusion when Darcy dropped to the snow, flopping onto her back in the two inches that’d nearly brought the city to a standstill. “You’re going to catch your death.”

Steve looked sharply in Bucky’s direction, barely contained humor in his eyes. “I can’t believe you just said that. You sounded _exactly_ like your mother.”

Darcy rose to her elbows, blinking at Bucky through her lashes. “You’re right. I don’t have time to get sick. Give me a hand up?” Though he raised an eyebrow at her request, he held out his hand. Darcy grasped it then pulled as hard as she could, obviously surprising him.

As he hadn’t expected that much force to be used, Bucky fell beside her, scrambling to his knees in the snow. Her cackle split the night air, and the sound seemed to echo around them. He heard Steve’s laugh join hers, and because he knew what Steve could take, Bucky felt no guilt when his hand wrapped around Steve’s ankle and pulled the blond into the snow beside him and Darcy.

The snow was cold, but Steve’s face was hot from laughter when the three of them laid there. As their laughter began to fade, Steve looked over Bucky and toward Darcy. “You realize you’re the only one of us who can catch a cold, right?”

Spreading her legs and arms out to the sides, Darcy directed a large grin in Steve’s direction. “Worth it.”

Their impromptu snow angel adventure had resulted in the three of them dripping water all over the lobby and elevator. After their (annoying but adorable) insistence, Darcy had found herself wrapped in both Steve _and_ Bucky’s coats, which were _several_ sizes too large for her. “This is a little ridiculous.”

“Say that again when you don’t have a cold in a week,” Bucky murmured, looking over at her.

“Bet you twenty dollars I won’t,” she charged in Bucky’s direction.

“I’ll get in on that action.”

“Oooo, kinky,” Darcy hummed at Steve, laughing when she saw pink light into his cheeks. “How about this: if I get sick, I’ll buy muffins for all of us.”

Bucky’s face screwed up at her words. “Everything is charged to Stark anyway.”

“Jesus _fuck_ , Bucky. Do you have to suck the fun out of _everything_?”

“It’s a talent,” Bucky replied, smirking when she rolled her eyes at him. He caught Steve’s eye over her head, a look of quiet disapproval on his lover’s face. Bucky shrugged his shoulders, thinking there’d been enough innuendos over the course of the night, and what was one more?

“Okay, whatever, food’s on me is all I’m saying.” The elevator doors dinged open on their floor, and Darcy began shedding the coats they’d made her wear. She slipped on one of the sleeves and would have fallen to her ass if Steve’s hands hadn’t darted out to catch her. Cheeks flaming in embarrassment, Darcy blinked up at Steve, seeing small thread of worry in his eyes. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m fine, I’m just a fucking klutz.”

Helping Darcy get steady on her feet before letting her go, Steve took his coat when she held it out.

Now that they were standing there, at the end of a red letter evening, Darcy found herself reluctant to leave their sides. Even though she didn’t want to, she gave them both a smile and began her goodbyes. “Thanks for, uh, dragging me out tonight.”

“Sure,” Steve said immediately, returning her grin.

“Didn’t like the thought of you being alone all weekend.”

Darcy waved off his concern. “Jane’ll be back before I know it, then the holidays will be over and we can go back to our regularly scheduled programming.”

Steve reached up to scratch at the back of his neck, wanting to draw the night out a little bit longer. “We’ll see you Monday?”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” she answered, eyes closing a second later from the utter _embarrassment_ at having said that aloud and not in her head. “Uh, you guys have a good weekend. I hope it’s an Avenger-Duty-Free break. You guys deserve to have some fun.”

“We just did, doll,” Bucky hummed, lips lifting when Darcy’s gaze swing his way.

With a roll of her eyes and a grin, Darcy reached out to shove him off the elevator. “Good night, you dork.”

“Good night, Darcy.”

“Good night, Steve.”

“See you on Monday,” Bucky said. 

Both he and Steve stayed there, grinning at her until the doors closed and stole them from sight. It was only one floor up, but Darcy stood there smiling to herself, fingers brushing back and forth over her lips. She was finally moved to action when the doors began to close on her, darting forward to avoid being caught.

Unable to help the skip in her step after such a great night, Darcy started toward her room. She stopped short when a powerful sneeze erupted from her body and filled the echo’ing hallway.

“ _FUCK!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's take a moment together.  
> We can synchronize our hearts.  
> Roll those shoulders back.  
> Unclench that jaw.  
> Deep breath in.  
> Deep breath out.  
> Do you feel that tension between your shoulder blades?  
> It's like the weight of the world, and I feel it, too.  
> But we're here. Together. Across the planet.  
> Breathing.  
> Living.  
>  _Loving_.  
> See that light up ahead, at the end of the dark tunnel?  
> We can do this.  
>  _You_ can do this.  
> <3


	26. An Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, Steve, and Bucky meet someone new. Jane helps Darcy through the fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> It's Monday, and we all know what that means!  
> MORE SLOW BURN!  
> ... uh, I know this seems like the opposite of the right direction, but I hope you trust me?  
> I've got plenty of aloe, should anyone need it.  
> <3  
>   
> 

_Wide awake my feelings wait til the stars arise_  
_Like a dam building up, then it breaks all at once_  
_Emotions spilling out I am waiting for_  
_The wave to crash, a moment to pass on by_  
_Everyday feels like I’m holding back an ocean_  


**An Ocean - Calah Mikal**

Though she’d nearly overdosed on medicine over the weekend, Darcy was still saddled with a cold. Lying in bed, unable to breathe out of her nose, she debated on texting Bucky and telling him she wasn’t going to make it for coffee. It wasn’t because she was stuffy (she was), or that she hadn’t gotten much sleep (she hadn’t), but because she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right. Deciding that shame wasn’t a large enough reason for her absence, she piled on layers, took two more red pills, and made her way to the café. She grabbed their normal table, pulled out a tissue, and attempted to appear normal.

Before they’d even pushed through the doors to the café, Bucky could tell something was wrong. Darcy was wearing a sweatshirt, gloves, and a hat, all while indoors. Her nose was red and irritated, and he could read the tiredness in her hazel eyes. It was pretty obvious she was sick, and he felt a thread of worry unravel in his chest. “I’ll get our drinks,” he said to Steve, before turning and heading toward the register.

After his best friend’s abrupt exit, Steve wound through the tables toward Darcy. As he grew closer, he realized why Bucky’s hackles had raised. “You don’t look that great,” Steve said as he came to stand next to the table, watching Darcy’s eyes blink up at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Darcy said with a dismissive wave of her hand. If she was feeling any better, she’d have given him a hard time for his comment, but she just didn’t have the energy. “It’s just a cold, Rogers. People have them all the time. We don’t know for certain that it’s snow-angel related.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Steve said, humoring her. He didn’t particularly like the idea of Darcy being sick, but it appeared she was taking it in stride and didn’t look too worried. “Rough weekend?”

“I think not being able to breathe out of my nose is the worst possible thing in the entire world,” Darcy murmured, uncaring how overly dramatic it sounded. She’d always hated being sick and _hated_ being stuck in one place. When she was nine-years-old, she’d needed her appendix removed. Laying in that hospital bed with nothing to do but read and watch TV had been _torture_. Though she’d have a little more to keep her busy in today’s technological age, sitting in one spot still put Darcy on edge. “And you? No sniffles or otherwise ooky symptoms?”

Smiling at her choice in words, Steve shook his head. “We told you we don’t really get colds.”

“ _Mmmhmm_ ,” Darcy hummed with a roll of her eyes, “just one more way the two of you are perfect. I already know this.”

Steve wasn’t sure what to do with her comment, and he opened his mouth to assure her that he and Bucky were _far_ from perfect, but stopped when Bucky appeared back at the table with his arms full. Bucky began to set bottle after bottle in front of Darcy, and Steve watched the surprise and confusion solidify in Darcy’s eyes. “What are you –“

Bucky pointed at each of the bottles in turn. “This one is full of vitamin C, this one has antioxidants, and _this_ one will help boost your energy. And water. Lots of water.”

Darcy’s eyes had widened as Bucky placed the numerous liquids in front of her. His face was pulled into serious lines, as if her cold was something _he’d_ be able to fight against. It was adorable, and perfect, and she couldn’t help the smile that found its way to her face. “Buck, this is –“

“What kind of medicine have you been taking?” Bucky waited for her answer, but instead found both Steve and Darcy staring at him with varying stages of surprise on their faces. “What?”

“He does this,” Steve said, eyes swinging over toward Darcy. “Ma may have been a nurse, but Bucky was the one who made sure I followed doctor’s orders.”

“If you’d have stayed in bed like you were _supposed_ to, I wouldn’t have had to watch after you,” Bucky groused. Turning back to Darcy, he could see a question in her gaze. “I just don’t like seeing you in pain, doll.”

“Colds are a pain in the ass, but I’m alright.” Darcy cocked her head to the side, trying to understand how utterly _wrong_ she’d been to assume Bucky would rake her across the coals because of their bet. She’d already decided what kind of muffins she’d buy when he rubbed her face in the fact that he’d won, but she hadn’t expected him to be filled with _concern_ instead of vindication. 

When he didn’t appear convinced by her words, Darcy reached out and squeezed his hand with hers. “I promise I will drink all of these today.” The smile that Bucky sent her seemed to do the trick, and though she still looked sick, her answering grin made some of the worry fade from the grey of his eyes.

Watching them interact with each other - the back and forth, the soft smiles, how easily they touched - Steve couldn’t help the speeding of his heart. There was something in Darcy, something that could bring out the best of Bucky, and Steve found it utterly _intoxicating_. He cleared his throat, both of their gazes swinging back to him. “Other than the cold, how was the rest of your weekend?”

Pulling her hand from Bucky’s and grabbing the orange juice when he held it out for her, Darcy considered Steve’s question. “Quiet,” she answered, “but that was the goal. I cleaned the place from top to bottom, did all my laundry, caught up on _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ , and still had time to talk Jane down from murder.” She took a large drink of the juice and grimaced, as she’d brushed her teeth before coming down. At Steve’s eyebrow raise, she shrugged her shoulders. “Jane and her extended family have some… issues.”

“What kind of issues?”

The suspicion and worry for Jane in Bucky’s tone made Darcy’s heart swell, and when she saw a matching concern on Steve’s face, she felt like her chest was fit to burst. They’d only been around her best friend a handful of times, but because Jane mattered to _her_ , it appeared she mattered to the boys as well. Darcy’d heard of ‘fast friends,’ but this was on a whole new level. “You’re both very sweet, but it’s just a difference in opinion. She’s right, of course, so that makes it easier.”

“When does she get home?”

“Wednesday,” Darcy answered Steve. “She’ll be chomping at the bit to get back to work. I made her promise to _not_ science while she was away. She needs a break every now and then, and since _she_ is my work, I take it very seriously.”

“Obviously,” Bucky said with a smirk, enjoying the way Darcy’s eyes narrowed in his direction at the sarcastic barb.

Bucky couldn’t fully explain _why_ he’d been so concerned about Dr. Foster, but giving it another second of thought, he felt a stab of shame. On the surface, he _was_ concerned about Dr. Foster, but it was the same worry he would have for anyone else who lived in the tower. No, his mind had been filled with worry because he knew how much Foster meant to Darcy, and he couldn’t imagine the pain she’d feel if Foster was harmed.

Steve focused on the smiles on their faces, turning the coffee mug in his hands, warmth in his cheeks. His gaze was drawn to their left, toward a man who’d been hovering near their table but hadn’t approached. He watched the man take a step toward them before shaking his head and turning away. 

It wasn’t uncommon for people to see him and want an autograph. It was something Steve had been dealing with for a while. It happened less now that they were in the tower, but it wasn’t rare. He straightened in his seat when the man came to a decision and turned back toward their table with purpose. When the man never looked in his direction, and instead focused on _Darcy_ , Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You’re Darcy Lewis, right?”

Still laughing at the horrible pun Bucky had made, Darcy glanced to her right at the new voice. “Huh?”

“You work upstairs. In R&D.”

Blinking at the man, still a little uncertain what was happening, Darcy gave him a guarded look. “Who told you that?”

“Oh. I’ve heard about you. From Mr. Stark. He told me you were working here.”

Surprised Tony would have mentioned her and Jane to someone _at all_ , Darcy’s face took on a dubious expression. “Did he now?”

“I mean, I recognized you, too. I was in Prague in 2014 when you and Dr. Foster spoke about your work on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory. I’d love to pick your brain about some of the hypotheses you came up with.”

Snorting with laughter at the thought that she’d had _anything_ to do with that presentation (besides putting together the powerpoint), Darcy shook her head. “If you’re looking for science speak, you’d need to talk to Jane.”

“Right. Of course. Sure. I didn’t mean to imply anything,” he said while seeming to struggle over his words, his cheeks heating pink, “I know you’re the wizard behind the scenes.”

Enjoying that turn of phrase, Darcy smiled at the man as she put her chin in her hand. Now that she’d pegged him as a science geek, she was able to focus on everything else. He was attractive, in a tweed-y sort of way. He was short, but not in a bad way, and had dark hair that stuck up artfully in all directions. A pair of dark rimmed glasses and the David Bowie tee he wore under his suit jacket completed the look.

And if Darcy was being honest? It was a _good_ look.

“Well, _this_ wizard would appreciate knowing who is giving her work such glowing praise.”

“Oh, god, of course, I’m sorry. I’m Zeke,” he said, thrusting out his hand in her direction, blue eyes shining behind his glasses. “Zeke Taylor. I work up in engineering.”

Eyebrows raising, Darcy shook his hand, a grin curling her lips. “Nice to meet you, Zeke. I’m Darcy.”

“I know,” Zeke said with a smile. When he heard someone clear their throat right next to him, he appeared startled, eyes widening as his attention swung to the other two people who were at the table with her. “Right, you’re here with, uh, others.” Zeke stuck his hand out in Bucky’s direction. “Hi, sorry, you were having a conversation and I walked right into the middle of it. I’m Zeke.”

Bucky blinked at the man, eyes flicking to Zeke’s outstretched hand before looking back up. He wrapped his left hand around Zeke’s and squeezed.

The tension in Bucky’s shoulders told Steve everything he needed to know about how his best friend was taking the situation. It’d been surprising to find out the man hadn’t wanted to speak with either of them, but instead had focused on Darcy. The fact that he knew her name and had recognized her on sight alone was telling, as was the way he was stumbling all over himself. Steve had been in that position more times than he could count, and he could tell Zeke wasn’t used to walking up to beautiful women and initiating contact. “It’s nice to meet you, Zeke. I’m Steve Rogers and this is James Barnes.”

Zeke’s eyes widened at the strength in Bucky’s hand, his gaze holding the soldier’s for a second more before he attempted to pull his hand back. Bucky’s grip stayed firm for a few more seconds before he released his hold, watching as the man turned toward Steve. 

“Oh, I know. Hi. Thank you both for your, uh, service.”

Commiserating with the awkwardness that seemed to permeate the man’s being, Darcy felt the need to save him from himself, as well as the pressure that came with meeting Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Savior Savior Complex going into overdrive, Darcy shifted in her seat and she felt a thrill up her spine when Zeke’s eyes – blue and gorgeous – landed back on her. “Since Tony’s talked about our work, you could always come up for a visit. I can _try_ to answer your questions, but Jane’ll be the best one to ask.”

Eyebrows lifting toward his hairline, Zeke’s face took on an awed quality. “Really? That’d actually be amazing.”

“Sure,” Darcy said, answering his grin with one of her own. He nodded at her before turning away, taking three steps before Darcy called out to him again. “Hey! Zeke!” Zeke turned back to her with expectation in his eyes, and Darcy couldn’t help the way her grin went crooked. “Our floor is secure, so you’ll probably want to call me before you come up. I’ll give you my number.” 

Rooting around in her bag for a pen, Darcy pulled one out and gestured Zeke back toward their table. She grabbed his hand, feeling the warmth and just a tiny bit of clamminess, and scrawled her number across his palm. “There you go. Just give me a ring.”

Zeke pulled his hand back, blinking down at the numbers before his gaze flicked back up to Darcy. “Wow, yeah. Thanks. Again, sorry for interrupting.”

“That’s okay,” Darcy said, putting her chin back in her palm and giving him a small wave. When he walked backward into a chair, fumbling to keep it upright, Darcy put a hand over her mouth, not wanting to outright _laugh_ at the man, but charmed by his awkwardness. He glanced back over his shoulder at her and Darcy waved at him, seeing a tiny flap of his hand before he bee-lined for the door to the tower atrium, most likely trying to escape the gawky display he’d just shown. 

When he was out of sight, Darcy’s gaze fell to the table, a grin lifting her lips. She was startled out of her thoughts when Steve cleared his throat, her hazel eyes widening as she looked up at the two men sitting across from her. “Sorry. What were we talking about again?”

When Bucky remained silent, a blank expression having taken residence on his face, Steve stepped up to answer Darcy’s question. “You were telling us how Jane will be home on Wednesday.”

Snapping, Darcy wagged her finger at Steve. “That’s right! Yeah. Just two more days. I always feel a little lost without her.”

“That makes sense. Your life kind of revolves around your lab,” Steve said, turning his coffee in his hands. He knew Bucky was still sitting beside him, but the man had gone quiet, his eyes cast down at the table. His expression gave nothing away, but Steve had been in love with Bucky since they were children and he knew how to interpret his silence.

“You’re not wrong,” Darcy said with a grin, before her nose crinkled. She barely had time to grab a tissue before the sneeze rocketed out of her. Shaking her head, she blew her nose then reached for the bottle of orange juice again. “You’re a lifesaver, Buck, did you know that?”

Blinking, life seemed to refill Bucky’s face, and he gave her a nod. “Not a bad thing to be known for,” he murmured, eyes tracking her as she began to pack up her things. When she turned away, Steve gave him a meaningful look but Bucky shook him off. Instead, he chose to focus on Darcy and making sure she was alright, especially since Foster was out and she had no one to care for her. _No one else but us_ , he corrected in his head, seeing a matched worry in Steve’s blue gaze. “Since Foster’s not here, you should rest. Lay on the couch. Take a nap.”

Darcy’s eyes widened as she slipped to her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Did you just suggest I take a nap?”

Bucky ignored the raised eyebrow she shot in his direction. “You’re sick. You need to get better.”

“Aye-aye, Dr. Barnes,” Darcy said, bringing a hand to the side of her face and saluting him. He rolled his eyes, but she smiled regardless. She found the fact that _Bucky_ had told her to take nap endlessly amusing, unable to keep the enjoyment from her expression. She followed after the men as they made their way toward the atrium and back to the elevator that would lead upstairs. 

Taking a second to catch her breath, irate that she couldn’t use her nose properly, Darcy leaned back against the wall of the elevator, her eyes falling closed as they began to climb. When she felt a hand pressed to her forehead, she blinked open eyes to find a worried looking Steve standing only inches away. “Uh...”

“You might be running a fever,” Steve said with a frown. At first he’d been on Darcy’s side, reasoning it was just a cold and if a stuffy nose was the worst of her symptoms, there wasn’t _really_ anything to worry about. _Now_ , though, he could see the pink high in her cheeks, and this time it couldn’t be explained away as easily. He pulled the back of his hand from her forehead and pressed it to her cheeks, able to feel the warmth of her skin and knowing it wasn’t right.

“Really?” Darcy tested it for herself, but she’d never been particularly good at being sick. She’d collapsed her junior year during midterms because she’d thought the ‘silly cold’ she had was nothing, only to find out that she’d caught pneumonia from working herself to the brink. If she could avoid that again, she would. “I promise I’ll rest today, okay?”

When Steve nodded at her, her eyes flicked toward Bucky, finding him looking at her with an equally concerned tint. “Boys, I’ll be _fine_. I’ve been around gods, and elves, and scatterbrained scientists, and I pulled through. I don’t think a cold’s gonna be the thing to take me out. I’m sure that’s what Edgar Allen Poe said, too, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“I’m gonna check on you,” Bucky said, a shadow in his eyes when he looked at her, “just to be sure.”

Though his words and worry were sweet, it looked like _something_ was bothering Bucky, and Darcy wasn’t sure _what_. He’d been a little odd all morning, but because it was concern for her, she couldn’t really hold it against him. She reached past Steve and squeezed Bucky’s arm, eyes lighting with appreciation. “I guess I’ll allow it.”

“Wasn’t looking for permission, doll,” Bucky replied, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

“ _Mmmmhmmm_ ,” Darcy hummed, happy to see a glimpse of the Bucky she’d come to know and care about. How was she supposed to be upset with either of them for their worry? She _adored_ spending time with the two soldiers, and the fact that they were worried about her warmed her chest like the summer sun. They’d become such a large part of her life so quickly that she had to wonder what stroke of fate had brought them all together. When the doors opened on their floor, Darcy watched them hesitate for a second before climbing out of the car. They stood there, looking at her, until she waved and the doors stole them from sight.

It only took seconds to get to her floor, but just those few seconds witnessed her energy wane. She’d been able to put on a strong façade when she was in front of them, but now that she’d been vertical for an hour or so, it felt like it all hit her at once. Grumbling about Super Soldier Serum and the perks, she undressed as she walked, leaving her clothes in a line down the hallway. When she was wearing just her underwear and a t-shirt, she crawled back into bed, taking Bucky’s advice and deciding that a nap was the exact thing she needed.

“I can’t believe they gave you this. Like, what? They expected it’d somehow make you do less science?” Darcy asked, running her hands over the front of the SparkNotes edition of _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ that Jane’s Uncle Gary had gifted her for Christmas.

“He even made notes in the margins for me.” When Darcy’s eyes widened and she started flipping through the book with an incredulous expression on her face, Jane leaned forward, her eyes squinting and her tongue bit between her teeth. She finished Darcy’s last toenail, spreading the sparkly bright red polish, satisfied when she didn’t get any of the goop on her best friend’s skin. “But you had a good few days?”

“Other than this cold, yeah, it was alright.”

“What did you do?”

“ _Mmmm_ ,” Darcy hummed, throwing the book on the coffee table and looking critically at the job Jane had done on her toes. “Well, I cleaned _all the things_ , got all our laundry done, had dinner with Bucky and Steve, then the rest is a hazy cold-induced stupor.” When Jane stretched back against the couch with a conflicted expression, Darcy raised an eyebrow at the astrophysicist. “What?”

“What was dinner like?”

Unsure why there seemed to be a shadow in Jane’s face, Darcy’s face took on a tint of guard. “It was just a place in Brooklyn, nothing big. Then we walked around and they told me stories from when they were younger. Then I had the horribly awful idea to make snow angels, and my life is now filled with snot.” Her answer didn’t seem to satisfy Jane, so Darcy fidgeted, not sure what the scientist was getting at. “I don’t –“

“It was just the three of you?”

Darcy gave up the pretense of checking her nails and sat back, frowning at Jane. “What’s going on?”

“When Thor visited –“

“Wait!” Darcy sat up straighter, a smile breaking onto her face. “Thor was _with_ you?”

“For a few hours,” Jane said, her lips pursing. 

“But he met Brad and Karen?”

“Yes, he met my parents.”

“Jane! That’s _huge_! Why didn’t you lead with that? Fuck. You brought a Norse god home to meet your parents. Weird flex, Janey, but I like it.”

Rolling her eyes at Darcy’s amusement, Jane’s face set back into serious lines. “He talked a lot about Steve and the rest of the team. How happy he is that everyone’s back together.”

Darcy nodded, grinning. “You know, it was a little intimidating, but I think the movie night was great. It was nice to see actual _people_ instead of just their call signs. Steve said they’re already asking when the next one is, but with the holidays, I wanted things to settle down before choosing another time to do it.” 

She watched Jane nod then begin to bring a hand up to her mouth. Darting forward, Darcy wrapped her fingers around Jane’s wrist to keep her from biting her cuticles. The anxious energy was something she’d been combatting for years, and over those years, Darcy had learned that her best friend only did it when she was nervous about something. A tendril of worry uncurled in her chest as she blinked at Jane. “What’s going on?”

Letting out a sigh, Jane turned her whiskey-eyes to Darcy, heavy with apology. “We talked a lot about Steve.”

“...okay,” Darcy said, eyebrows furrowing, uncertainty biting up and down her arms. She’d gotten pretty good at deciphering Jane’s expressions, but this was something new.

“He talked about how he was with Bucky in Wakanda.”

“I know. We’ve talked about it, and how pretty it is.”

“Thor said they deserved time together after everything they’ve gone through.”

“Yes, and I agree.”

“He said Steve is with Bucky.”

“ _I know_ he was with Bucky,” Darcy said, her concern growing with each second. “What are –“

“No, Darcy. He’s _with_ Bucky.”

Darcy’s face didn’t lose any of its confusion, and she blinked at Jane as if what she’d said hadn’t made sense. “What?”

“Thor made it pretty clear that Steve and Bucky _belonged_ to each other, and that it was good to see them finally happy together.”

“It’s the Big Guy,” Darcy said with a dismissive wave of her hand, though she felt less sure than her tone conveyed. “He says weird shit like that all the time.”

“I know,” Jane said, her voice soft, “so that’s why I asked for clarification. He said Bucky and Steve were together. Romantically.”

Darcy blinked. “No, that’s not… I mean, I’d have... but I haven’t...” 

Like her brain was trying to make sense of a Pollock painting, Darcy shook her head, mind turning over what Jane was suggesting. She’d spent a good chunk of time with both Steve and Bucky over the past few months, and she hadn’t gotten any overt signals that they were in a relationship. They had no reservations about touching each other, but looking back, it was nothing more than how often she and Bucky touched. It was a friendly, comfortable type thing. They’d been best friends for over a century, it made sense that they’d be more tactile with each other.

... but it was _more_ than that. Now that she had a specific aspect to analyze, she ran their interactions though the new filter, looking for the hints and clues she’d obviously missed. Darcy felt her stomach drop, her lips flattening as she realized all the little things that she’d overlooked. Steve was Bucky’s person. They lived on the same level. Steve had been willing to _die_ to protect Bucky, and had gone against his own country to do so. She’d always found their closeness endearing, but platonic. 

Was that because she hadn’t paid enough attention, or because her mind supplied her with a different, easier to swallow truth?

When Darcy went quiet, Jane followed the emotions as they crossed her best friend’s face. _Surprise. Uncertainty. Disbelief. Shame._ “Are you okay?”

Blinking, pulled out of the turmoil in her head, Darcy focused on Jane. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I saw you with them,” Jane answered. “I see how you look at them. I know you told me nothing was going to happen, but I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The warm concern from Jane made Darcy’s skin feel hotter. “It never even crossed... They’re close, but they’d have to be. They’re close. Like me and you.”

“I’m betting they’re a little closer than we are.”

Accepting the facts that Jane had laid at her feet, Darcy couldn’t help the stab of hurt that carved at her chest. “Fuck.” When her eyes began to fill with tears, she pressed her hands over her face, shoulders falling. “ _Fuck_.”

“Darcy?” Jane reached out and laid a hand on Darcy’s knee.

“I’m such an _idiot_ ,” Darcy said when she lifted her head, angrily swiping at the tears that had rolled, hot and heavy, down her cheeks.

“You’re not.”

“Yes I am. How could I have missed that?”

Jane gave her friend a soft shrug. “It doesn’t sound like something they really advertise.”

“I know, but I’ve been spending all this time with them. You’d think it’d have come up at least _once_.”

“Why would it have come up?”

“I don’t _know_ , Jane! I mean, I knew nothing was going... it’s like I told you already. There’s no way anything’s going to be happening with them. And me. It’s not happening.”

“I know. I remember.”

“Because it’d be dumb. I’m nobody.”

The look of offense on Jane’s face was sharp. “Hey. Darcy. That’s not –“

“No. Seriously. I’m _no one_ ,” Darcy reiterated. “No powers. No abilities. No suits of armor or arrows. Being friends with them is all I could ever hope for.”

It was clear that Darcy was trying to explain away the pain the revelation had brought, but Jane wouldn’t let her best friend talk badly about herself, regardless of the situation. “Doesn’t mean you didn’t _think_ about it. Like you said, you’ve spent so much time with them lately, which I’m _ecstatic_ about, but you can’t help how you feel about someone.”

“It shouldn’t matter.”

“I know.”

“It shouldn’t hurt, either.”

“Yeah, I know. But it does, right?” When Darcy blinked at her, loosing another tear free, Jane’s heart thumped in her chest with sadness. “I’m sorry. I know how you are.”

Swiping at the tears, her nose somehow getting _more_ stuffy than it already was, Darcy’s eyebrows knit together. “What does _that_ mean?”

“You adopt people.” Jane ignored the stuffy-sounding snort that issued from Darcy. “You did it with me. And Selvig. Even though we weren’t exactly easy to integrate with.”

“Jane –“

“And you did it with Thor.”

Darcy shook her head. “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because... because... I don’t _know_!” Darcy climbed to her feet, needing to be up and moving, as if being mobile would somehow help with her conflicted feelings. “Am I attracted to them? Yes. They’re both hot. I’ve never used this term before, and I’m feeling all Tiger Beat-y about it, but Steve’s eyes are fucking _dreamy_ , Jane. _Dreamy_. Do you hear me cringing at even thinking that? There is maximum cringement going on. And Bucky... well, he’s _Bucky_. He’s sweet, and funny, and he can be so sharp and cutting one second then be a complete marshmallow the next. And his hands...”

“They’re objectively hot men. You’re not wrong.”

“And I _know_ it’s not like sexual preference, _or lack there of_ , defines who someone is. My brain knows this. They’re more than the sum of their parts.” When Jane raised an eyebrow at her, Darcy grimaced. “Yes, I realize how that sounded out loud and I’m sorry for mentioning their parts.”

“It’s okay.”

“I just wish I’d known,” Darcy sighed. “Or that they’d have told me.”

“... like you told Steve you were living here now?” The shocked expression on Darcy’s face was priceless, and Jane reached out to grab Darcy’s hand. Her friend had always been harder on herself than anyone else, and she could see how that fact still weighed on Darcy’s shoulders. “You’ve been holding a piece of yourself back from them. Why?”

Darcy wanted to say that she hadn’t, that she’d fallen into their friendships head first, but maybe she _had_ held back. There was a real reason, the deep dark truth of why she didn’t reach out to Steve when she knew she’d be sticking around the states. Over the past few months, and after a lot of soul searching, she’d finally ferreted out the truth. She took a heavy seat on the couch next to Jane, arms falling limply to her sides. 

“... they scare me,” Darcy finished lamely, glancing over at Jane. Her best friend was quiet, giving her the room to breathe, waiting until she was ready to explain any more. “Not in an ‘I’m gonna get hurt’ kind of way, but a ‘these people could be important in my life and losing them would be devastating’ type of way. They’re superheroes, Jane. _Super. Heroes _.”__

__“I’m aware,” Jane hummed._ _

__“I’m so below their level that it isn’t funny. I’m not just on the ground floor, I’m in the sub basement.”_ _

__Jane frowned. “That’s unfair to yourself.”_ _

__“Why?”_ _

__“You think I didn’t feel the same thing with Thor?” When Darcy went quiet, Jane continued. “He’s a _god_ , and now he’s a king. How am I supposed to fit in with gods, and angels, and kings?”_ _

__Despite not feeling sure about herself, Darcy reached out and squeezed Jane’s hand. “Oh, Janey, I’m sure –“_ _

__“I’ll tell you what he told me: It’s hard to drown your heart while on dry land.”_ _

__Darcy blinked at Jane, the wheels in her mind spinning as she tried to suss out what the phrase meant. “If those are some Asgardian words of wisdom, I don’t think I speak the language.”_ _

__“You care about them.”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“And they care about you.” When Darcy went to open her mouth, Jane held up a hand and stopped her. “That was a rhetorical question. I know they care about you, I’ve seen it first hand. That’s not going to change just because you have a crush on them.”_ _

__Darcy’s nose crinkled as she grimaced. “ _Ugh._ Crushes. What are we? Twelve?”_ _

__“There was a spark between you, but you had to find out what kind of fire it fed. Now you know that it’s _friendly_ fire.” Darcy’s snorted then rolled her hazel eyes up to Jane. “Doesn’t mean you have to put the fire out, you just have to transfer the flames to something safer.”_ _

__In awe of the nuanced way Jane had explained the situation, Darcy let the thought sit there. What Jane said was true; she cared about Steve and Bucky, and had cared for them for a while. At first it’d been shy, and hard, but now that it was comfortable, now that she finally _knew_ them, her feelings had started to swell. It wasn’t like she was head over heels in love with either of them ( ~~she wasn’t, right?~~ ), and now that she knew, she could focus that energy. “Friendship,” Darcy repeated to herself, seeing Jane nod in agreement._ _

__“Which is no different from what you have now, but now you know it’ll never be anything more.”_ _

___Never_. In that moment, Darcy tried not to focus on how her stomach had bottomed out at the word. How could one word hurt that much? “You’re right,” she said with a sigh, looking up at Jane, “of course you’re right.”_ _

__Worry and empathy still shined from Jane’s eyes, and she squeezed Darcy’s hand again. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__Feeling the weight of knowledge on her shoulders, Darcy’s eyes fluttered closed. She had a memory that went through her head when she came face to face with an emotion she couldn’t handle all at once. Mourning something that hadn’t even been hers in the first place was an odd sensation, but she fell back on the habit her mother had taught her.__

_”Can you change it?”_

_“No, mama.”_

_“If you gave your feeling a color, what would it be?”_

_“Poop brown.”_

_Abigail looked over at her daughter as they stood in front of the sink finishing dishes. She tried to keep a straight face, but the way Darcy was looking up at her, blinking innocent eyes, one of her front teeth missing, meant a smile formed on her face anyway. “Okay. Now tell me the worst thing that could possibly happen.”_

_“I’ll never see my favorite pog again.”_

_“And on a scale of one to ten, how much would that hurt?”_

_“An_ eleven _.” When her mother glanced her way, Darcy’s shoulders fell. “A two,” she corrected, frown turning her lips._

_“A two’s not so bad. If Peter doesn’t want to give you your pog back, it’s not really the end of the world, is it? You’ve got plenty of other toys to play with.”_

_“I know. I just don’t like him taking my things.”_

_“He’s a baby, Stardust. They don’t really understand why they can’t play with everything.”_

_“Yeah,” Darcy said, heaving a large dramatic sigh as she took the clean plate from Abigail and began drying it. “We can’t blame a baby because he’s a baby.”_

_“It’s okay to feel hurt, but the feeling will go away. We just have to get comfortable until it does. We can’t change our stars.”_

_“But can we change our star **dust**?”_

_“No,” Abigail answered with a smile, one soapy finger pressing into Darcy’s side and making the girl laugh, “but we can **love** our Stardust, just like I love you.”_

Darcy couldn’t change the stars. She’d be hurt at the loss of a future that would never be, but it would fade in time. Dwelling on the darkness was useless, and she heard her mother’s voice in her head, calming and familiar, and let the anxiety and disappointment go. After taking a deep breath and letting it out, Darcy blinked at Jane with a smile on her face. “You’re right. This doesn’t change how much I care about them.” 

“Nope,” Jane said, answering Darcy’s smile with one of her own. 

Feeling better, Darcy bent at the waist and poked Jane in the cheek. “...anyone ever tell you that you’re a bit of a genius?” 

“Well, I mean, it’s what my PhD says...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do something for yourself this week.  
> Read a book you've not had the time to start.  
> Make dinner full of everything you love.  
> Take an extra long shower, hot enough that your skin turns pink.  
> Sing to that song, the one you love, at the top of your lungs.  
> Do one thing that you've put off doing.  
> Just one thing.  
> See how it snowballs.  
> <3<3<3


	27. This Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve discuss their feelings. Darcy and Jane get a visitor in the lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> I don't know why, but I still get nervous every time I update.  
>  _What if they don't like it?_ my mind supplies. _What if you went too far this time?_  
>  And yet, you're all such wonderful people that I have nothing to worry about.  
> The love that beats in my chest for all of you is strong!  
> I heart you all so much!!  
>   
> 

_They tell me think with my head, not that thing in my chest_  
_They got their hands at my neck this time_  
_But you're the one that I want, if that's really so wrong_  
_Then they don't know what this feeling is like_  


**This Feeling - The Chainsmokers**

The sound of flesh hitting leather had become like white noise. Bucky moved on instinct, muscle memory carrying him through his workout and allowing him to focus on the turmoil in his head. Ever since Monday, he’d felt a dark cloud surrounding him, like sticky oil that clung to his skin, and try as he might, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling. Deciding that physical exertion was the next logical step, he threw himself into the action, until he was breathless and stumbled forward, wrapping his arms around the punching bag to stay upright.

Panting, he pressed his cheek against the leather and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw movement in his peripheral vision, and it didn’t surprise him that Steve was hovering in the doorway. It was clear the blond had something to say, so Bucky stepped back from the bag, taking a heavy seat on a bench and grabbing for his towel. “Debrief all done?”

Moving further into the space, Steve padded across the mat toward his best friend. It was glaringly obvious that Bucky was upset about _something_ , though he’d been mum on admitting the reason out loud. Steve had known Bucky all his life, which meant he could see the frustration in Bucky’s shoulders, bunching up near his ears, and his jaw was clenched tightly, muscles ticking as he breathed. Steve crossed his arms over his chest as he came to a stop before Bucky. “Yeah,” he answered with a nod of his head. “Good workout?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, feeling his heartbeat slow and his muscles relax. He was sore now, but he knew it’d only be a matter of time before it faded, the serum speeding his metabolism like a bullet train. He watched Steve shift his weight from one leg to the other, looking up to find blond’s expression was one of hesitation. “Something on your mind?”

“You’ve been kind of quiet since Monday,” Steve said. “You wanna talk about it?” When Bucky just shook his head and used the towel to wipe at his face, Steve let out a sigh and took a seat next to the other man. “Do you know why you’re angry?”

“I’m not angry.”

“Disappointed, then.”

“Not that either,” Bucky argued, his voice already sounding resigned.

“ _Bucky_.” Saying his lover’s name had the desired effect, and Steve saw Bucky’s shoulders slump as he leaned back against the wall. Leaning forward, putting his elbows on his knees, Steve clasped his hands together, hoping that not having to _look_ at him might help Bucky open up. “I looked him up in the system,” he said, feeling Bucky stiffen at his side. “There were no red flags. No criminal history.”

“Who?” When Steve _did_ glance over at him, an exasperated expression on his face, Bucky rolled his eyes. He knew the ruse was transparent, but it still didn’t change the fact that Bucky didn’t _want_ to be having this conversation. “You don’t think I did the exact same thing?”

Frowning, Steve leaned back against so he could look Bucky in the eyes. “Then why are you upset?”

“I’m not,” Bucky denied again with a shake of his head, “no reason for me to _be_ upset.”

Refusing to let this fester inside Bucky and become cancerous, Steve pushed, just like Bucky had asked him to do. Steve was done letting his best friend down because what the discussions they needed to have were difficult. Perhaps he’d become hyper aware of Bucky’s moods since he’d come face-to-face with the fact that he’d been letting his best friend and lover down. “I understand why you would be,” Steve said. “I get it. We’ve been spending lots of time with her lately, and –“

“Who Darcy spends her time with is none of my concern.” The words had been clipped, and abrupt, and tasted like ash on Bucky’s tongue.

Steve frowned when he looked over at Bucky. “That’s a pretty cold view of things, Buck.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Bucky said with a sigh, feeling like nothing he did or said was right. “We are not Darcy’s only friends. If she wants to be with someone else, that’s her choice.”

Steve was almost certain Bucky didn’t know how his words sounded - _’If she wants to be with someone else’_ – but it was a very telling turn of phrase, and Steve wondered if Bucky had uncovered the truth of his own feelings, or if he was holding tightly to ‘willfully ignorant’. “Do you like her?” When Bucky looked over at him sharply, Steve kept his gaze steady, showing his lack of jealousy. “It’s okay if you do.”

Bucky looked away from Steve, focusing on the window in the door to the gym, watching people pass. “We’re just friends,” he said.

The sullen tone Bucky used told Steve volumes. “But you wish you were more?”

Shaking his head, Bucky climbed to his feet. The conversation felt like something unnecessary. Darcy was just a friend. A friend who made him smile and feel better about himself than he had in years, but still just a friend. He was with Steve, and that was enough for him. More than he _deserved_. “I can’t,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, unable to explain the tightness in his chest. “I’m not... ready.”

Voice going soft, Steve blinked up at Bucky as the other man paced in front of the bench. “Not right now, but that could change. You don’t know how you’ll feel in a few months, or a few years.”

“Years?” Bucky laughed, the sound hollow and mechanical. “Try decades.”

“Buck –“

“Why are we even talking about _me_? You saw her first.” When Steve raised an eyebrow at him, Bucky sighed, arms falling heavy to his sides. “That’s not how I meant it. She doesn’t belong to you or anyone else. She’s her own person. I know. And, like I said, if she wants to spend time with other people, I have no reason to be upset.” He could tell Steve didn’t really believe him, but didn’t have the energy to pretend. “What about you? I told you to find someone and you found _her_. I saw your face when you came home that morning. You said it was good.”

Steve nodded, choosing his words carefully. “It was. It was good. Really good.”

“Then what’s the problem? Why don’t you –“

“Because I don’t know if _I’m_ ready,” Steve said with a sigh, seeing Bucky’s step slow as he waited for clarification. “I love spending time with her. I like how she makes me feel, but I like how she makes _you_ feel even more. I’ve seen how comfortable you are with her. She brings something out in you, and it’s...” Bucky continued to look at him as if he needed more explanation. “I think I still need time to process everything, We’ve only been home half a year, and even though she’s…” 

Struggling with his words, Steve reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Even though it’s Darcy, I’m not sure I’m ready yet. I’m not sure about a lot of things. Except you. You’re my home. It doesn’t matter who they are, if I start to care about someone like that, they’ll have to share my heart with you, and I just don’t know if I’m prepared for that to happen yet.”

Something in what Steve said had struck Bucky as familiar, and his lips curled into a smirk when he glanced toward Steve again. “Been talking to Natasha?”

“We’ve had conversations,” Steve admitted with a shrug of his shoulder. “She helped me understand what I should look for, which sounds ridiculous, because I’m not _actively_ looking for _any_ one, but I don’t know how else to explain it. I guess I just have to wait and hope I know it when I see it. That’s all I can do right now. But I understand. Darcy is... she’s special.”

Glancing down at his feet, Bucky curled his toes against the mat. He wasn’t sure how to express his own feelings, because he’d tried doing so to himself, and it’d just left him more frustrated. He meant what he’d said: Darcy was free to spend her time with anyone she liked. He had no reason for the disappointment that tightened his chest. There was no claim, no promise, nothing that constituted something other than friendship. _Close_ friendship, but still just a friendship. They were friends.

... but that couldn’t explain away the ache he felt when he thought of someone being with Darcy. It didn’t make sense, as there’d never been any overt signs that she thought about him _that way_ , and even debating it in his head sounded like a child being angry that they weren’t getting their way. He loved spending time with Darcy, felt more comfortable around her than almost anyone, and he could admit that watching her and Steve interact was like a study in pressure. Darcy made Steve smile. She made _him_ smile. So why, then, did he feel a flash of jealousy when he thought about her making someone else smile, too? Jealousy was ugly, and it was even worse when he didn’t have the right to be jealous in the first place. All it did was leave him frustrated. And moody. Petulant. Unfair. Bucky could recognize it in himself, and he hated it.

Bucky looked up at Steve, wishing he could explain the complicated feelings that swirled like a hurricane in his head. “She means a lot,” he finally said, loathing the helpless tone in his voice.

“I know,” Steve agreed, the sentiment singing through his chest, too. “Nothing we’ve built with her has to change just because she makes a new friend.” Bucky’s nod was the only acknowledgement he received, and Steve knew his lover was dealing with understanding himself. The whole situation was peculiar, and Steve felt like they were drowning in a sea of half-whispered desires and apologetic glances. 

The lightness Darcy had brought to their lives was hard to measure. The only thing that Steve knew for certain was that he couldn’t imagine not having Darcy’s smile in his life any longer, no matter where and how she fit. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t entertained the fantasy of what Darcy could be in their lives, but that’s what they were: _fantasies_. He knew it was silly to feel heartsick over a future that would never come to be, but that’s what it felt like. 

In one single night, Darcy had proven to Steve that there were people worth getting to know, worth _growing_ for. And in a single _hour_ , she’d proven how large and empathetic her heart was by making sure Bucky knew he wasn’t alone. Both incidents were loaded with emotion, and it was all too easy to let that emotion expand into something else. Now, though, he and Bucky had to come down from the high and accept the truth. Darcy Lewis was a caring, warm, funny, _strong_ woman, a great person _and_ friend, but perhaps it was time to let whatever blush of feelings they’d had beyond friendship go.

And friendship with Darcy was more than worth it. 

“Everything’s going to be okay, Buck,” Steve said with what he hoped was an encouraging smile, squeezing Bucky’s hand again. “Maybe one of these days we’ll feel like we’re ready. But even if we’re _never_ ready, I’ve still got you, and you’ve still got me. And at the end of the day? That’s more than enough for me.”

Bucky wanted to carry the same optimism Steve seemed to have, but all Bucky could think was that if someone _did_ work with him and Steve, they wouldn’t be half as good as Darcy. It was odd to feel so solid on one foot, and on a precipice on the other; there was no one who’d be able to take the place in his heart that would always belong to Steve, but Bucky had started to entertain the idea of having someone by _both_ of their sides. He didn’t know when, or if he’d be ready, but he did know that it was selfish to expect Darcy to wait for something that may never come to pass.

Part of Bucky thought it was stupid to even entertain the idea that something would happen with Darcy, particularly because there’d never been any kind of revelation that would lead him to believe Darcy saw him as any more than just a friend. They’d only known each other for a handful of months, but the feeling in his chest was real. And _that_ real feeling was what beat beneath his ribs, the hope that one day he might be healed enough to accept the softness Darcy was capable of. He had a hand firmly gripped around his relationship with Steve, knowing it might bend, but would never break. His other hand, though, was brushing through the fading amber sparks of something intangible.

Looking over at Steve, Bucky took in a deep breath then let it out. “When did our lives get this complicated?”

Steve’s lips lifted and he directed his gaze towards the floor. “I dunno, pal. I think our lives have always been a little complicated.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bucky said, a grin to match Steve’s ghosting onto his expression.

“ _Get it, science lady!_ ”

When Jane executed a perfect spin, Darcy whistled in her best friend’s direction before sucking greedily on her straw, the bite of the _heavily added_ tequila burning down her throat. She lifted a hand above her head and follow suit, following Jane’s path as they weaved through the equipment and work tables.

_I’m gonna make you a mixtape_  
_With a thought for every move_  
_And let the songs on it explain_  
_The way I feel about you_

Despite their best efforts, Darcy and Jane had hit a wall. The women had acquired liquid lubrication and audio assistance in a bid to break through said wall. “ _We’re like kool-aid man_!” Darcy shouted over the music, bursting with laughter when Jane’s face screwed up in confusion.

It was one of those problems that just got worse the longer you looked at it, so the ladies had decided a dance party, with a side of booze, might help them along. But even if it didn’t, it wasn’t a bad way to wind down after a stressful week. It didn’t matter how much time they spent together, Darcy could never get enough of her best friend. Sharing her with Thor and science was difficult, but worth it.

_’Cause you got that sexual healing_  
_And you’re always on my mind_  
_I just can’t stop the feeling_  
_Something’s in the air tonight_  
_And I want you from the bitter_  
_To the sweetest symphony_  
_It’s just no way that I could let it be_

Feeling floaty, and warm, Darcy pressed a hand to her cheek, feeling the heat of her skin and grinning. It had been far too long since she and Jane got tipsy together, and though she felt sad that it’d come after the blow of an unsolved problem, she couldn’t help her happiness at the turn of events.

Ever since Jane had confirmed the relationship between Steve and Bucky, Darcy had felt a little lost. It was a stupid situation of her own making, letting herself feel feelings for people who were out of her league, and making assumptions that weren’t hers to make. She felt guilty that she’d let herself go down a road that wasn’t meant for her. It was made more complicated by the fact that it wasn’t just feelings for Bucky she was wrestling with, but for Steve, too.

She’d gone over the night she’d spent with Steve, digging through her memories with a machete to see what she’d missed. While he’d spoken about growing up with Bucky, the blond hadn’t said anything that’d make her think he was in a relationship. Darcy had saved him from a woman with a scheme, a scheme that wouldn’t have worked unless she was certain she’d be seeing Steve _sans shield_. He’d been at a bar on a Friday night by himself. It’d been all too easy for Darcy to assume he was out looking for someone to spend some time with. 

Then there was the second night they met. The night they’d talked until the sun came up. The night that had ended with her shoving him onto the fire escape before gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. A kiss he’d _returned_ with his soft lips, and a hand in her hair, and one of the softest sighs she’d ever heard. Darcy had gone over and over that moment, looking for whatever she’d missed, but in the end, it didn’t really matter.

Despite telling herself not to, she’d felt the first stirrings of affection for the men, and now she was dealing with the consequences. It was her own fault. What had she really expected? That she’d measure up to a super hero? That she’d rank high enough to snag a super soldier? Rolling her eyes at herself, Darcy took Jane’s hand, spinning the other woman as they both sipped their drinks.

_So put the tracks on replay_  
_Just like back in the day_  
_And I know it's kinda stupid_  
_I know it's kinda stupid_  
_Play it through and rewind_  
_Think of us every time_  
_Yeah, I know it's kinda stupid_  
_Fuck it_  
_I'm gonna do it anyway_

As the song began to fade out, Darcy’s mind was just as loud as before, turning over the same conversations and memories, and feeling second-hand embarrassment for Past Darcy who’d been crushing on two people, who just so happened _to be together_. To be fair, there’d been no outward cues from either man that they were interested, but that’s what crushes were, right? Feelings that you couldn’t completely explain, with a blush of hope for something more.

And she’d gone and felt the feelings for not only _one_ man, but **two**. Two men who were _together_. “What the fuck was I thinking?” Darcy murmured to herself, sucking the last of her drink through the straw. “ _I’m empty_ ,” she shouted over the new song that had started to play from the speaker, trying not to think about how those two words meant more than just her glass being without.

“ _Uh, I could go get you something..._ ”

Eyes widening, Darcy spun toward the new voice, fumbling with the plastic cup in her hands and _just barely_ catching it before it fell to the ground.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” Darcy said, brushing a hand through her hair and trying to retain some modicum of composure. 

Zeke stood close to the doors, a black messenger bag slung over one shoulder. His fingers tightened on the strap, which he seemed to have a death grip on. He rocked onto his toes then back to the floor. It looked like a nervous gesture, something he did automatically, and Darcy blinked as she tried to gather her thoughts.

“ **Who are you and what are you doing in our lab?** ”

Seeing a heavily-toasted Jane point finger guns in Zeke’s direction with a suspicious look on her face would live in Darcy’s brain forever, and she would treasure it for all her days. “This is,” she looked over at the man, watching his face fall a bit at her questioning glance before she grinned, “Zeke. He works in engineering and heard about us from Stark.”

Zeke seemed to lose weight on his shoulders when she remembered who he was. “Well, I knew your names before Mr. Stark talked about you.”

“That’s _right_!” Darcy said with a grin, focus swinging back to Jane. “He was at that place. You know, the one we did in 2014? In… _fuck_!”

“Prague,” Zeke supplied, smiling softly when Darcy turned a beaming, grateful grin his way.

“Yeah! Prague! He said he wanted to pick your brain but I said _no_! Because that big beautiful organ you call a brain is mine. I called dibs, you remember?”

“I do not,” Jane said with a shake of her head. The astrophysicist shook Zeke’s hand when he held it out, and offered him a drink from her glass, which he politely declined. “Speaking of organ harvesting, Darcy, didn’t Stark threaten to take one of our kidneys if we allowed any unapproved access to this heavily secure area?”

“We’ve got four of them. We can spare one.”

Zeke drew both women’s gazes when he took a step closer. “Actually, uh, he was the one that sent me up here. He said you were having trouble with one of your computers?”

Eyes widening, Darcy took a step closer to him, recognition lighting her eyes. “That’s right! I _did_ send him an angry little missive. I figured he’d just have one of the normal IT guys come up here to help.”

“Well, it’s like Dr. Foster said: this is a secure floor. I’m not a computer genius by any means, but I know my way around. He thought it’d be safer this way. I, uh, might have told them we met downstairs and that you’d invited me up before.”

Ignoring the side-eye Jane was giving in her peripheral vision, not ready to deal with level of _Drunk Jane_ while there was still a guest in their ~~home~~ lab, Darcy set her empty cup on a table and motioned for Zeke to follow her. “Name dropping so you can get in the upper floors. Are you sure you’re not a super villain in disguise?”

“Like from a movie?” Zeke asked, a frown crossing his face.

“Yeah. Like a Hans Gruber type, for instance.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t really watch a lot of movies.”

Spinning on the balls of her feet, Darcy could tell she’d surprised him with her abrupt stop. “What does that even _mean_?”

“Uh, I think the last movie I saw in theaters was _Star Wars_.”

“Which one?”

“... the first one?”

The fact that he wasn’t sure made Darcy’s lips lift. She could see pink filling his cheeks, a soft embarrassment, and Darcy took a second to admire the pretty color. “That’s adorable. The computer’s right over here.” She could feel him follow at her back, and when she glanced over her shoulder, she watched his eyes flick up and dart away, like she’d caught him staring.

This time it was _her_ cheeks that filled with heat, and _this time_ it wasn’t just because of the tequila. “Here you are. It does this weird thing where it just randomly boots me out of the shared drive. Like it’s losing connection.”

Taking a seat at the desk, Zeke wheeled himself closer. While Darcy explained in detail what the issue was, he inserted a USB stick and opened a program. “This is going to scan the computer for any broken scripts. That might be part of the problem.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Like what?”

“Well, Mr. Stark developed a script that automatically checks the connection several hundred times an hour. If there’s any throttled traffic, or if anything goes offline, he gets an automatic notification.”

Darcy jumped onto the desk, taking a seat beside the computer so she could face the engineer. “So you mean to tell me that Stark can remote in at any time and see my browser history?” At Zeke’s sheepish nod, Darcy’s nose crinkled. “ _Ugh_. I _know_ that I signed a form saying I agreed, but damn. Maybe we should have paused the signatures and really considered what that meant.”

“I don’t think he actually has the time to go in and look at things like that. He lets most of the underling IT guys do that.”

“But you’re not an underling IT guy,” Darcy said, a dark eyebrow quirking upward.

“No. He said you guys and your work was special.”

“ _Awww_ , look at Stark being disgustingly pleasant. How am I supposed to make fun of him now?”

“He said he couldn’t come himself because he had a skeet shooting appointment that he couldn’t cancel.”

“He’s so full of bullshit,” Darcy hummed with a shake of her head, lips lifting in affection. She’d only met the billionaire a handful of times, but it’d become pretty clear he liked to push buttons. That was alright, because Darcy knew how to push a few of her own. “So he takes you out of your department, hands you a work order, and sends you up here? That’s worth _at least_ a five percent raise.”

“I’d settle for a date.”

“With Stark?” Seconds after the question left her mouth, Darcy realized what Zeke had meant. It was painfully obvious that Zeke hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and Darcy watched his face fill with crimson, blue eyes looking everywhere _except_ her. Behind Zeke’s back, Darcy could see Jane’s waving arms and off-center thumbs up. Face screwing up, she attempted to dissuade her best friend from making this any more embarrassing for the man. 

Giving Zeke her attention, Darcy’s hands gripped the edge of the table as her feet swung, feeling surprise thump in her chest. He’d been adorable that morning in the coffee shop, stumbling over his words and then _literally_ over a chair, and it appeared like nothing had changed. “I think the raise would be a better bet,” she said, her own cheeks heating when he pointed those bright blue eyes in her direction.

“Call me a gambler,” he replied, fidgeting with the pen he held in his hands. “If you don’t want to -”

“ _No!_ I mean, I’m _not_ saying no.” Feeling like she wasn’t making sense, and desperate to erase the awkwardness from the air, Darcy took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to let him down gently. She opened her mouth to tell him how flattered she was but to decline, then stopped. She’d been about to turn him down and she couldn’t figure out _why_.

Since she and Jane had moved around from place to place, it’d made forming relationships pretty difficult. They hadn’t stayed in one place for longer than six months at a time, and though Darcy’d met a few people and gone on a few dates, nothing was ever going to be long term. It just wasn’t possible. _Now_ , though, there were roots on the horizon. Darcy didn’t think the _Stark Industries_ gig was going to last forever, but for the moment, they were as grounded as they’d ever been.

So _why_ , then, was she saying no? Zeke was cute, and sweet, and was blinking at her with a quiet expression, like he knew he was about to be let down gently. Why _wouldn’t_ she want to go on a date with him? _Because half your heart wouldn’t be enough,_ her mind supplied. The thought forced Darcy’s lips into a frown, and she felt a rebellious fire in the pit of her stomach. “I’d very much like to go out with you,” she said after another moment of quiet. When Zeke looked up at her in surprise, Darcy could feel a matching expression on her own face.

“Really?”

“Really,” she confirmed, grin widening when he flashed her a nearly mystified expression. “There’s something you should know about me before we go down that road.”

He appeared to temper his expectations, handsome face flattening the slightest bit. “Okay.”

“Half my verbal lexicon is pop culture references, so you might want to brush up a bit.”

“Assigned homework,” Zeke hummed, like he was testing it out. After a second, the smile returned to his face. “I don’t mind homework.”

Grinning, Darcy looked down at her swinging feet, feeling heat in her cheeks. She actually lifted a hand and pressed it to her own skin, wondering if agreeing to a date while tipsy was a good idea, but reasoned that it was just one date. 

_What’s the worst that could happen?_

Turning back to the task at hand, but glancing in Darcy’s direction every few seconds, it only took a couple minutes for Zeke to figure out her computer issue. “It looks like you had some anti-malware cluttering up your temp files. Made a runtime error pop up. It should be all good now.”

“Sounds like you’ve got magic fingers,” Jane shouted from the couch she’d just laid down on.

Eyes fluttering closed, reminding herself how much she loved her best friend and that murder was wrong, Darcy schooled her features before smiling at Zeke. “You still have my number? Wrote it down before it could wipe off?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Does Thursday work for you?”

“ _Tomorrow_ Thursday, or _next_ Thursday?”

“Tomorrow. Unless that’s too soon, we could -”

“Tomorrow works.” 

“Yeah?”

“Sure. It’s not like it’s a school night or anything.” The grin on his face was sweet, and Darcy felt like she was going to fall into his blue eyes. Clearing her throat, she jumped down from the desk as he gathered his things. They had an awkward moment where they stood there, smiling at each other, before she was spurred to motion. “Thank you for stopping by. If Tony asks, I’m rating you a five out of five. Five stars.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Just shoot me a text with the details.”

“I’ll do that.” He hovered by the door, gripping the strap to his bag, rocking back and forth on his feet. “It was good seeing you.”

“You too. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” He nodded his head in Jane’s direction, who answered him a flap of her hand.

Darcy’s eyes followed him as he left, casting one more look over his shoulder before disappearing through the doors. She stood there, grinning softly to herself. When she turned to find Jane sitting up and looking her way, Darcy’s smile slipped. “Don’t. Don’t give me that face.”

Jane blinked wide, innocent, whiskey-colored eyes toward her best friend. “What face?”

“ _That_ face,” Darcy answered with an accusatory finger poke, “the one you’re giving me right now.”

“I am giving you no face,” Jane denied. “I am faceless. I am the faceless god.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and held out a hand. “You mean the Many-Faced god, and a pop culture reference from _you_ means it’s time to pack it in. You want to hurl before bed?”

“I’m not a drunk twenty-year-old, Darcy. I’ll be fine.”

“No, now you’re a drunk thirty-two year old who probably needs to throw up.”

“ _Darcy_.”

“ _What?_ I’m just looking out for you. Come on, my science soulmate,” she said with a grunt as she pulled Jane to her feet, “let’s go to bed. I’ll grab the pasta pot and put it next to the bed. Just in case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enthusiasm is one of the best traits.  
> If the things you love bring a smile to your face, don't feel like you have to hide it.  
> Still read _Harry Potter_ once a year? Shout it loud!  
> Have you memorized every song by your favorite band? Your voice sounds like angels!  
> Enjoy collecting stamps? Those little books you put them in look awesome!  
> Watch hour after hour of anime? Yatta!  
> Too often, people are made to feel ashamed of the things that they love, and all it does is dim lights around the world.  
> Now is not a time to keep quiet. Scream your love from the highest mountain! Own it, because it's yours, and if it's yours, it can't be wrong.  
> <3<3<3


	28. Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Natasha go for a drive. Tony stops by the lab to talk to Darcy. Sam and Steve have dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Happy Labor Day!  
> For those of you with the day off: I hope you enjoy the break!  
> For those of you that still have to go to work,  
> I hope you know you're the backbone of our freakin' economy and you're amazing.  
> And for those outside the US (omg, some of you guys might not live in the US and that's _awesome_ ),  
> I hope you have a good a Monday as you can, seeing as it's still a Monday.  
> I hope you enjoy this little glimpse into what the trio do when they're not with each other!  
> 
> 
>   
> 

_It ain't no wonder why we lose control_  
_When we're always a heart attack away from falling in love_  
_Well, I know that we've been hardly holding on_  
_To tell the truth, I can't believe we got this far_  
_Running near on empty_  
_I wish somebody would've told me_  


**Fade - Lewis Capaldi**

“The pretense of needing me to help with security was a little thin.”

Bucky glanced over at Natasha, raising an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t have to come.”

“ _Some_ of us enjoy going outside,” she hummed, green gaze peering out the window as the city began to disappear and was replaced with snow-laden trees and post-holiday traffic.

“I’ve been outside,” Bucky said with a bit of exasperation in his tone. When Natasha had suggested she joined him on his errand, he’d had a feeling that it wasn’t just because the assassin was getting cabin fever. When she was in the tower, she always found either him or Steve, tagging after them like their babysitter. Most of the time he indulged her; Bucky wasn’t sure where he’d be if Natalia Romanova had never entered his life. Despite the circumstances of their history, the bond they’d formed meant a great deal to him, which meant he often let her scold him like a child when it was needed.

“So I’ve heard.”

Bucky shook his head and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Don’t.”

Natasha’s gaze swung toward him, eyes flashing with faux innocence. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t say something by saying nothing.” It was one of the things she’d been taught, but as he’d been the teacher, Natasha wasn’t going to be able to feign ignorance. “If you’ve got something to say, then just say it.”

Taking a moment, really looking to make sure he was up for the words they were about to have, Natasha turned so she could face him. “What’s going on with you and Lewis?”

Vindicated that he’d known exactly what she was going to say, Bucky shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing when I talked with Steve about it.”

“Well, it’s nothing,” Bucky said with a scowl. “Nothing is happening between us. We’re just friends.”

“ _Mmmm_ ,” Natasha hummed, “but you like her?” Bucky going silent at her side was as good of a response as any, and told her that it was obviously a sore subject. She watched his jaw tick, grip tightening on the wheel again. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.”

“James.” 

The way his name could fall from her lips like a grenade always set him on edge. The people who know you best always know if you’re lying, and a single expression could tell Natasha everything she wanted. It was the double-edged sword of being friends with someone so long. “Nat, I’m just now getting my feet under me. I’m working without a rug or a net. Between the security work with Happy, meeting with my therapist, and making time for Steve...” He shook his head, feeling the first flutter of overwhelming uncertainty take hold in his chest. “My hands are full.”

“Speaking as someone who’s _been_ in your hands,” Natasha rasped, smirking when he leveled a glare in her direction, “they’re bigger than you think they are.”

“I’m not ready,” Bucky said with a sigh, feeling Natasha’s eyes on him, her lips turning down at the corners, “and neither is Steve.”

Confusion tinted Natasha’s gaze. “Neither of you are ready for _what_?”

“For... everything,” he answered, hand waving vaguely through the air. “Dating and everything that goes along with it.”

“I think you’ve been out of the dating game for too long.” When he snorted, Natasha leaned closer, resting her elbow on the center console. “Do you know what people do on dates? They learn about each other. They hear stories. They get to know someone.”

“Believe it or not, that’s something I’m aware of.”

“So how is that any different than what you’re doing with her now?”

Bucky opened his mouth to say that it was _different_ because none of the parties involved had specifically stated they wanted to pursue anything romantic, but when he looked over at Natasha, he stopped himself. For as annoying as it was that she knew him better than he wanted her to, the knowledge went both ways. He could tell something was off with her, especially in the way she was pushing, and his annoyance turned to worry. “What’s wrong?”

The timbre of his voice had changed, morphing into something sharper, and Natasha’s lips pursed. “We’re talking about you.”

“Yeah, and we just stopped.” When she pointed her gaze away, looking at the white wonderland on the other side of the glass, Bucky’s frown deepened. “Natasha. What’s going on?”

Tongue darting out to wet her lips, Natasha’s fingernails ran over the seam of her denim jeans, a textured distraction from what she needed to say. “... I told Clint and Laura that I’m not sure if me moving in with them is a good idea.”

Bucky looked back to the road, brain turning over the information. In the years since he’d reconnected with Natasha, he’d seen an entirely different person than the one he’d known in the Red Room. The tortures she’d endured, even some at _his_ hands, seemed to fade when she was with or spoke about Barton and the mother of his children. It was such an awe invoking transformation that the fact she _doubted_ the two filled Bucky with confusion. “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

Natasha looked over at him with a heavy glare. “Really? Steve said the same thing, but you _know_ why. You _know_.”

“I’ve never met Laura, but if she can put up with you _and_ Barton, I don’t see why –”

“ - That’s not –“

“- you realize it’s pretty hypocritical of you to say that I should –“

“- _Hey_ , look –“

“You’re telling me to dive into something with Darcy, even when I’m not ready.”

“There’s a difference between ‘ready’ and ‘safe’.”

“Nat, how can you –?”

“- If you really thought –“

Jerking the wheel to the right, Bucky directed the pick-up to the side of the road, tires crunching over the fresh snow. He threw it into park, unbuckled his seat belt, then climbed out of the truck before slamming the door shut behind him. The wind was cold, biting along his neck where his jacket left open skin, and he felt the warmth in his cheeks as he attempted to tamp down the raging emotions that seemed to be stuck in his throat. 

He watched Natasha get out of the car slowly, like she wasn’t exactly sure how to approach him. He completely understood, but he turned toward her with open hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Bucky said, wishing his voice wasn’t so strained. He hated showing how vulnerable he felt, but if he was safe with anyone, it was Natasha.

“Okay,” Natasha said with soft eyes.

“Things are better. _I’m_ better. And part of that is _her_. It could have been anyone in that elevator with me.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No. It was her. And ever since, I’ve had a glimpse of what _could_ be, but you know what hope can do.”

Natasha nodded, tasting the truth of his words on her tongue. “It can drown a dry man.”

“I’m not going to be enough for _anyone_ unless I start taking care of myself. I _have_ to be solid.” Bucky knew he was speaking more to himself than to Natasha, but this expulsion of worry and anxiety felt like he was shedding something heavy from his skin. It was hard to verbalize the rolling torrent of emotions in himself, and though he knew Natasha was only making sure he was okay, it still filled him with sharp words and dull aches.

Quiet for a moment, Natasha leaned back against the truck, feeling the cold wetness of the snow at the small of her back. She took a long look at Bucky, much like she had during the movie night, and she saw something in his grey gaze that she recognized. “You look solid,” she said, watching Bucky’s shoulders lift then fall before he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m getting there,” Bucky said, voice only slightly betraying the lack of confidence he felt.

“And _she’s_ helping you?”

Bucky nodded, gaze flicking up to Natasha’s and holding it. “Yeah, she is.”

“Okay,” Natasha said with a sigh as she pushed off the truck, “I’ll stop pushing. I just…” she trailed off, green eyes focusing on a spot behind Bucky, watching a hawk circle in the sky. “You and Steve… you’re family.”

Bucky paused for a beat then gave her a soft smile. “So are Clint and Laura.”

Surprised by his words, Natasha’s lips turned down in a frown. “Ouch.”

“Hurts having the dagger pointing back at you, isn’t it?”

“I just so happen to _have_ a dagger on me. Where would you like me to put it?”

It was clear by her expression that she held no ill will toward him for the comment, however true it was, and Bucky took a step closer to her, toe kicking out at a mound of snow in the middle of the road. “Nat… we’ve both been broken for a long time.”

“Filling in the cracks is dangerous,” Natasha said, lips pursing.

“Better glued together than in pieces.”

Natasha gracefully lifted an eyebrow at his words. “I bet that sounds better in Russian.”

“Everything sounds better in Russian,” Bucky mused, seeing the minute head tilt of acknowledgement from the assassin. They stood there in the quiet of the trees, a bird calling off in the distance the only noise. When it seemed like they’d both come to some kind of peace, he lifted his gaze to hers once more. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Natasha answered honestly. “You?”

“I’m going to get better. After that?” Bucky shrugged his shoulder. “I’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Natasha followed Bucky’s lead when he approached and got back in the truck. Once inside the cab, she looked over at the soldier as he pulled back onto the road. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“I found a sidecar for my bike. Fully restored.”

Natasha’s eyes rolled before she pinned him with an amused grin. “Boys and their toys. Do you know how many trick arrows Clint has now?”

_Wandering soul_  
_Wandering mind_  
_Wondering what's gone wrong with me_  
_And try not to try_  
_Swayed by the wind_  
_Swayed by the desire_  
_Can't reach the moon up above_  
_And I don't dare touch the fire_

Darcy’s head swayed along to the music, the duty of inputting data like muscle memory. She’d been neck deep in numbers for years now, believing Jane when she said the data was priceless, even if it just looked like a lot of jumbled numbers to Darcy. She’d given up trying to fully understand the science long ago, more than happy to put her faith in her best friend and leave the real work to the astrophysicist.

_'Cause the trouble with wanting is I want you_  
_The trouble with wanting is I want you_  
_The trouble with wanting is I want you_  
_And I want you all the time_

As her fingers flew over the keyboard, Darcy’s thoughts were free to wander, and when she did. she was reminded that she was going out on a date. Other than trying to figure out what she needed to wear and what she wanted to do with her hair, more _important_ thoughts rose to the surface. Since meeting Zeke downstairs in the coffee shop, and then again the day previous, Darcy had been trying to explain the apprehension she’d felt when he’d asked her out. There was no good reason _why_ she’d hesitated, but Darcy knew that wasn’t a good answer. Since speaking with Jane about the subject, things had become a little clearer. She’d been holding part of herself back from Steve and Bucky, afraid to let herself feel any more than friendship for either of the men. It seemed, now, that she’d been right in doing so.

_Always on my mind_  
_Always alone_  
_You could be miles and miles away_  
_But somehow you’re close_  
_If I can't have my cake_  
_And I can't eat it too_  
_Well, I guess the sound of your voice_  
_In the aching will just have to do_

The time she spent with Bucky and Steve was a lesson in control. Every time Bucky smiled at her, her stomach bottomed out and was filled with butterflies. Steve’s blue eyes could send her into orbit, especially when he looked at her through those ridiculous eyelashes of his. She felt like she was being pushed and pulled between the two of them, torn by happiness and smirks, until everything else became background noise. They’d burrowed so deeply into her heart so quickly that when Jane’s words had hit her, they’d hit her _hard_. It wasn’t their fault, obviously, but it left Darcy feeling a bit hollow. One, because she hadn’t noticed something that was right in front of her (though she blamed that on a heart not wanting to see the truth). Two, because the pain was her _own making_. They’d done nothing to form those insects inside her belly that crawled around and left her feeling floaty, and she’d had no reasons to feel the way she did.

But she did.

And now she was dealing with the aftermath.

_And if you never come back_  
_If you never call_  
_I say I'll understand when I don't at all_

Was it too soon to put herself out there, like she was with Zeke? Was this all just a distraction from the ache she felt in her chest? That seemed pretty jaded, and the more she thought about Zeke, the more she reasoned it was a _good_ thing that she was interested in someone else. Spending time with the socially awkward but adorable engineer wouldn’t erase what had blossomed one-sided in her heart, but it _would_ ease the dull pain of loneliness that she’d felt growing inside of her. Zeke was worth getting to know, and even if nothing progressed beyond friendship, at least she was willing to accept what else was out there. Moving on from a relationship that never was with a relationship that might never form wasn’t the best situation, but Darcy remembered the way Zeke had looked at her, and realized she was smiling to herself. Rolling her eyes, Darcy refocused on her data.

_I see you there and I see that line_  
_The trouble with wanting is I want you_  
_And I want you all the time_  
_I want you all the tim -_

"Lewis! Just the person I was coming to see!”

Ripping the ear buds from her ears, Darcy spun around to find Tony Stark standing in the middle of the lab, hands stuffed in his pockets as he gave her a slightly amused smirk. “Uhhh, hi,” she said, watching his dark eyes flash toward her. “What’re you –“

“Foster’s asleep?” When Darcy nodded, Tony pulled his hands from his slacks and crossed his arms over his chest. “How does that work?”

When Tony didn’t elaborate, Darcy’s face took on an expression of confusion. “... sleeping?”

Tony dipped his chin in Darcy’s direction. “Most people’s office hours are nine to five.”

Darcy shrugged her shoulder. “We’ve never really worked well on a schedule. One outside of our own making, anyway.”

“So you, what?” Tony asked. “Divide and conquer? She’s asleep and you’re awake, then you both switch places?”

“Something like that,” Darcy hummed. She felt like she’d already had this conversation with the man, but it appeared he wanted more answers. When he jumped up and sat on the table next to her laptop, Darcy rolled back a bit with widened eyes.

“So walk me through this.”

Blinking at the billionaire, Darcy’s grin grew unsettled. “Explain the science? I think Jane might –“

“No, I want you. She said you were required, and maybe I just want to see how my investment is stacking up.”

Eyes narrowing at the engineer, Darcy crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, _sir_ , with help from Dr. Banner, we’ve been able to pinpoint the energy signature we’ve been looking for, in a quadrant of the Orion Molecular Cloud Complex. We’ve tracked the signal throughout the galaxy and are honing in on its current location.”

Raising an eyebrow as Darcy spat out what he was certain was Foster’s update, Tony shook his head and waved his hand through the air between them. “Alright, now tell me all that in _your_ words.”

“There’s something stupid powerful out there, flying around, and we’re trying to catch it, but the fucker is super fast.”

“Trying to catch it? Like with a butterfly net? What’re you gonna do if you get your hands on it?”

“Janey wants to see if we can harness the energy and use it to power –“

“Yeah, the black hole slash wormhole situation. I get that part. My question is _why_?”

Darcy’s eyes tinted with confusion. “... why what?”

“Why are you so invested in the science? I read your file. I know you were in New Mexico as an intern. You didn’t study science. Why did you stick around?”

Feeling righteous indignation begin to burn in her stomach, Darcy’s eyes flashed in Tony’s direction. “ _Excuse me_?”

Tony appeared unmoved by her offense. “You mean to tell me you changed the entire trajectory of your life because you met _one_ astrophysicist?”

“I met _two_ astrophysicists, thank you very much,” Darcy said, her words vehement, “and they’re more than enough reason. I’m invested in the science because I _believe_ that Jane will find what she’s looking for, and even if my name is never mentioned next to hers again, at least I can say I was there, and that I loved every second of it.”

One of Tony’s dark eyebrows raised in her direction. “All of it?”

Darcy’s expression didn’t change. “Every. Fucking. Second.”

“... even in New Mexico?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“London?”

“Was it a little sketchy? Sure, but what were we going to do? Sit by and let elves attack London? I don’t think so.” When he went quiet, looking at her with a considering glint in his gaze, Darcy felt like he was trying to bore his way into her soul. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Though he was a bit of an asshole, Tony Stark was still Tony Stark, and she felt intimidated by the man and his giant brain. His ego helped take off the shine, _a lot_ , but he was still Tony Stark. “Did that satisfy your curiosity?”

He looked at her for another minute, like he was measuring her truthfulness, before he shrugged a shoulder. “You’re a very loyal person, Lewis. I’ll give you that.”

Sitting back in her chair, Darcy leveled a glare his way. “So what’s the _real_ reason you stopped by? Don’t give me bullshit, Stark, because I have a very good sense of smell.”

Unperturbed by her annoyance, Tony hopped down from the table. “I had someone ask about you, and I thought I’d get the answers straight from the source.”

This time Darcy’s face contorted with disbelief and skepticism. “Who asked about me?”

“Unimportant,” Tony said, like it was all the answer she needed. “Thanks for the info.”

Darcy blinked as he began making his way toward the doors to the lab. “ _Seriously?_ You’re not going to –“

Tony spun back toward her, popping his hands and making a noise before pointing at her. “Oh! Right. Pepper says she’ll be in touch.” His smirk grew crooked when Darcy’s face drained of color at his fiance’s name. “She wants to meet up with you. It’s totally unrelated to this line of questioning. Thanks!”

Still in shock, brain swirling with questions, Darcy watched at the doors to the lab hushed shut after the engineer left her in silence. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?!”

Steve’s eyes grew progressively wider as he watched Sam fold a slice of pizza then attempt to fit it all in his mouth at once. When the other man washed it down with his beer, Steve shook his head, lips curling. “Are they not feeding you on missions?”

Wiping his face with a napkin, Sam shrugged a shoulder as he reached for his next bite. “Gotta keep the caloric intake up, not that _you’d_ know anything about it.” When Steve opened his mouth to respond, Sam waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve got to eat a lot, but it’s not to keep trim, that’s for damn sure.”

“At least my mother taught me manners.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised toward his hairline, lips parting in faux shock. “Oh, you’re wanting to bring Mama’s into this? Not sure you’re ready for all that mess.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah? You don’t think so?”

“I think _you_ think so,” Sam countered, watching as Steve smiled then went back to eating his meal. As Steve focused on eating, Sam focused on Steve. Over the years Sam had come to know Steve, he’d discovered that the soldier was especially good at pushing his own needs aside for what he considered the greater good. It’d been some time since they’d had a moment that didn’t involve the world ending, and he looked at Steve with a caring, critical eye. “How are you doing?”

Swallowing, Steve reached for his napkin. “What do you mean?”

Sam’s chin dipped toward his chest, expression clearly telling his friend that he didn’t buy the oblivious routine. “You know what I mean, Steve.”

Sitting back in his chair, Steve tried not to frown at the tone of Sam’s voice. “... things are okay. He’s had a few rough nights, but things are better.”

The look on Sam’s face didn’t change. “I didn’t ask about Barnes. I asked about you.”

Unsure what had garnered such an expression, Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I’m fine.”

“Just fine?”

This time, Steve _did_ frown. “What do you want me to say, Sam?”

“Hey,” Sam said, holding his hands up, “I just want to make sure my friend’s okay.”

Steve could tell it was more than just friendly concern, and he raised an eyebrow, somehow knowing Sam’s questions weren’t based on _their_ recent conversations, but someone else’s. “Talk to Romanoff?”

“Not really. Why? Should I?”

“She’s been...” Steve struggled to find a word that fit the concern Natasha had shared. “... a bit pushy about things.”

“Pushy?” Sam asked. “About what things?” When Steve’s gaze stayed on his, one corner of Sam’s mouth turned up, and he let out a sigh because he’d been caught. “Okay, yeah, I’ve heard it all while we’ve been out. Travel on the quinjet gets boring, so we talk. Besides, that’s what happens when you have family to look out for.” When Steve’s lips lifted in a smile and he looked down at the table, a wistful look in his gaze, Sam leaned forward on the table, resting on his elbows as he peered at Steve. “Tony told me what you’ve been working on.”

Surprised, Steve blinked at Sam. “Really?”

“Yeah. He reached out, gave me the rundown. Wanted to see if I knew anyone else who’d be good to join the team. I gave him a few names.” Steve nodded, setting the rest of his pizza aside and attempting to look casual, but Sam could tell there was more going on. “It’s a really good cause, Steve. Really.”

Not sure he’d earned the look of pride on Sam’s face, Steve brushed off the compliment. “Just following in your footsteps.”

“Pretty big shoes to fill. You sure you’re up to it?” When Steve’s blue gaze lifted toward his, Sam couldn’t help the playful smile that graced his face. “I’ve been watching you, since you got home. You weren’t steady at first. You look pretty steady now.”

Steve nodded. “Once I figured out why I was so restless, and decided I needed to _do_ something about it, things kind of came together.”

“It’s nice how that happens. When you find what’s right for you. What fits the best.”

Unbidden, Sam’s words brought memories and emotions to the surface of Steve’s mind, and he was useless as a barrage of mental images flashed behind his eyes.

_Bucky laughing at something Darcy had said, eyes crinkling at the corner as he watched Darcy’s animated communication style, grey gaze sliding to Steve’s, filled with happiness._

_Darcy’s fingers sifting through Bucky’s hair in the darkened room, having given up any pretense of actually watching the movie._

_The way Darcy fit between him and Bucky on the elevator, all three of them giggling at the wet state of their clothes after Darcy’s impromptu snow angel._

Sam watched a myriad of emotions flit over Steve’s face. “What was that? What were you just thinking about?”

Pulled from his thoughts, Steve blinked at Sam. “Nothing. Why?”

Knowing it was more than Steve was letting on, Sam sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You get this look on your face when you’re happy. It’s a little brighter than normal. Riley used to get the same look.”

Sobering at the mention of Sam’s former partner, on and off the battlefield, Steve watched a bittersweet look cross Sam’s face. “You miss him?”

“Every damn day,” Sam said with strength, lips lifting up. “If he could see what I was doing now? He’d have no words. And he _always_ had words. Even when he shouldn’t.”

“I wish I could have met him,” Steve said truthfully. He’d heard so much about the other man from Sam that he felt like he’d known the pararescue soldier.

“Me too,” Sam agreed. There was another beat of silence, where he was dealing with the ghosts of his former love, and Steve was lost in his own thoughts, before Sam leaned forward again. “Other than your new mission things are good? And yes, this time I’m asking about Barnes.”

“He’s good,” Steve said with a nod, grateful that he didn’t have to guess about Bucky’s mental state. Since meeting with Bucky’s therapist that first day, Steve had seen a marked increase in Bucky’s mental health. He continued to check in and ask Bucky how he was doing, even when his best friend got annoyed at the constant question. “He’s better. He goes to his appointments by himself, now. He’s getting more comfortable on the streets.”

Sam reached up to scratch at his beard. “It’ll be a spectrum. Some days will be better than others. You’ve just got to –“

“- take it one day at a time, yeah,” Steve said with a knowing grin, nodding at Sam’s laughter. “I remember.”

“Good. Keep repeating it until you’re sick. Then do it again.”

“You know,” Steve said, leaning heavily on the table and leveling his gaze at Sam, “Nat’s not the only one who can be pushy.”

“Hey, you’re a friend of Sam Wilson’s. You knew the score when you enlisted.”

“You’re not wrong.” There was another quiet moment, and Steve watched Sam’s attention turn to the people passing by the windows outside the little pizzeria. “I could always use some help. With what I’m working on. You’ve got the background.”

Sam’s grin grew crooked. “I appreciate the thought, I really do, but there’s so much going on out there. Seems like I can do the most good by being in the field.”

“I get that. It makes sense. I feel a lot better staying here when I know you’re out there.”

“That’s some high praise,” Sam said, eyebrows lifting impressively.

“It’s deserved,” Steve assured the soldier, “ _well_ deserved.”

“Well, when it comes to _your_ mission, I’ve got some numbers and people you should talk to. I’ll get you the info.”

For the majority of Steve’s life, he’d only had one goal: serve his country the best way he could. It used to be him with heavy shoulders, fighting on the front lines and dealing with what others couldn’t. Now, though, taking a step back from the fight seemed counter intuitive. Being a soldier was the only real job he’d ever had. Even with the new possibilities on the horizon, Steve felt like he was on new ground and his legs were still a little shaky. The last thing he wanted to do was fail, because just like all the other times he’d put on his suit, there were lives on the line. Though he knew what Sam’s answer was going to be, Steve found himself asking anyway. “You really think I could do some good?”

“I wouldn’t be following in your footsteps if I didn’t.”

Steve smiled, directing his eyes toward the table as he felt his cheeks heat at the praise. “You’re a very good friend, Sam.”

“Oh, I know,” Sam said with a laugh, “I’m a _great_ friend. People are lucky to have me.” When Steve rolled his eyes, Sam’s grin widened. “Helps when I’m surrounded by good people, too.” He straightened in his chair. “Speaking of good people…”

The look in Sam’s eyes told Steve all he needed to know. “See, I _knew_ it. She _did_ get to you.”

“Nat made me swear not to tell you we talked about it.”

“Well, you just ruined that.” There was a smirk on Steve’s face when Sam’s face fell and an appropriate level of fear clouded the man’s dark eyes.

“You think she knows?”

“She knew the second you told. She’s got a sixth sense.”

Taking it on the chin, Sam shrugged his shoulders and sat back in his chair. “Well, I’ll take that punishment when it comes, but it doesn’t change what’s been said. I just wanted to feel you out, see where you’re at, see how you’re feeling about everything.”

“Darcy’s great,” Steve said, not having to wonder who Sam had been alluding to with his line of questioning, even if her name had never been said out loud. “Things have been better since we’ve gotten to know her.”

“... but you’re not sure if you’re ready,” Sam said, vindicated when Steve looked up at him with a nod. “I get it, man. Even if there was something there, and I’m not saying there is - but _other people_ we both know have said as much - it won’t matter if you’re not sure.”

Steve felt his shoulders fall as he tried to articulate his feelings. “Everything’s so up in the air, and with Bucky still healing...”

“It feels wrong to jump into something. That makes sense, Steve. You’ve dealt with a lot of change lately.”

“We _all_ have.”

Sam smiled warmly, leaning forward so he could grip Steve’s shoulder and squeezed tightly. “You’ll know when you’re ready. There’ll be this moment when there’s no more fear over the unknown. You’ll know. You’ll just _know_.”

Steve knew his face showed skepticism. “What if it never feels right?”

“Then it doesn’t. Forcing something won’t help anyone, and you can’t help what you feel.”

“I’d be perfectly happy with Bucky. Just Bucky. He’s all I need.”

“I only _need_ one pair of sunglasses, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate having more.”

Steve gave Sam a dubious look. “That’s kind of a weird analogy.”

“Whatever, man, you know what I mean. Adding something doesn’t mean you have to deduct from what you already have. It’s like with your shield.”

Expression tinting with amusement, Steve wiped his hands on a napkin and sat back in his chair. “I’ve got to hear this. Continue, please.”

“Look. You have a shield, and it’s an amazing shield, and you’ve _earned_ it. And it’s been with you from the beginning, right?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“So what would it feel like to have _two_ of them?”

“Cumbersome,” Steve answered honestly.

“I’m just saying that more of a good thing isn’t bad. You’ve just got to be open for the universe to drop things into your hands.”

“I think talking about getting a handful is a bit too much.”

“Hey, if your brain went to how it’d feel to have her in your hands, that’s on you.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed in Sam’s direction. “Am I going to have to threaten you like I did Nat?”

“As if your threats meant _anything_ to her.”

Giving him a nod of agreement, Steve’s lips curled into a smile. “You’re right.”

“I _know_ I’m right. ‘Bout time you wisened up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.  
> Distance is hard.  
> When the person you want isn't there, it's a bitter pill to swallow.  
> I think that absence is just pain, an ache that sits behind your rib cage, waiting to be soothed.  
> If you hold someone in your heart, there's no space that can steal what you've built.  
> Your heart is bigger than the distance, bigger than the miles and roads that stretch.  
> Even halfway across the world, just hold out your hand and you'll feel the ghost of fingers wrapping around yours and squeezing.  
> The right person is worth the wait.  
> <3<3<3


	29. Can't Look Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Zeke have their first date. Bucky and Steve wait for a late Darcy. Steve gets a visit from someone needing advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Another Monday, another chapter!  
> I hope the previous week has treated you kindly, and if not, that things are better now!  
> Thank you all so much. The comments/kudos/reblogs lift my heart.  
> You truly are amazing.  
> Truly!  
> <3  
> 
> 
>   
> 

_We just keep on rising_  
_Faster than the lightning_  
_Looking down on all below_  
_Trying to keep control_  
_Now the grip is tightening_  
_Gonna keep on fighting_  
_Somewhere in my heart I know_  
_Somewhere in my heart_  
_I keep looking at you and it feels like_  
_I've been staring at the sun_  
_Yeah you hurt my eyes_  
_Can't look away, can't look away_  
_I've been staring at the sun_  
_Got me hypnotized_  
_Can't look away, can't look away_  


**Can't Look Away - Seafret**

“ _Mother… fucking… boot!_ ” Hopping until she could use the doorframe to keep herself upright, Darcy finally managed to stick her entire foot into the boot before zipping it up. When Jane looked over at her, Darcy posed against the doorjamb, doing her best impression of someone who had their shit together. “How do I look?”

Jane gave Darcy the once over. Against the grey walls of their rooms, Darcy’s red sweater dress was a much needed pop of color. The black leggings flowed gracefully into the pair of chunky booties, and the silver earrings dangling drew your eyes back to Darcy’s wavy dark hair and bright, crimson lips. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jane gave Darcy a dubious look. “This is how every _Dateline_ starts.”

Rolling her eyes at her best friend, Darcy couldn’t help the small lightning strike of affection at Jane’s concern. She’d grown up without siblings, but she and Jane had fallen together like it’d been meant to be. It was like breathing, like air, and Darcy wasn’t sure where she’d be if Jane Foster hadn’t come into her life. “Shut up.”

The suspicious look in Jane’s whiskey-brown gaze didn’t lessen. “You’ll text me to let me know you’re okay?”

“Jane. He _works_ here. You know who I’m going out with. Nothing is going to happen.” When Jane continued to blink at her, expression never changing, Darcy let out a sigh. “Fine. Yes. I will text you to let you know that I’m okay.”

“Or if you need an exit strategy.”

Darcy’s lips lifted in a grin. “Oh, what? Are you going to come rescue me? Be my knight in shining armor?”

Jane considered the question. “I’d look great in Asgardian armor.”

“Hell _yeah_ , you would. And wielding Myuh-Myuh? I’d be so down for that.”

The look of excitement on Darcy’s face made Jane roll her eyes, but she leaned her head back against the couch and gave Darcy an honest smile. “Yes, to answer your original question, you look great.”

“Thanks.”

As Darcy fiddled with her necklace, Jane considered the way her best friend was flitting around the room like a hummingbird. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you take this much time getting ready before going out.”

Jane’s words brought a memory to the front of Darcy’s mind. She recalled the mini-frenzy she’d had while getting ready to go to dinner with Steve and Bucky, second guessing every choice and agonizing over whether she looked like she was trying too hard. Getting ready for this date felt different ( ~~not that dinner with Steve and Bucky had been a **date**~~ ), but not in a bad way. Just... different. “Yeah, well, he came out and asked me. Figured I’d put in the effort.”

Jane pointed toward a mirror that hung on the wall. “You’ve got some red on your teeth.”

“ _Shit!_ ” Darcy rectified the problem then shot Jane a grin to make sure she’d gotten it, earning a thumbs-up. She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Feeling a flip of her stomach, nervous butterflies fluttering behind her ribcage, Darcy grabbed her coat and purse, crossing to the door before pulling it open.

Though _he’d_ been the one to knock on _her_ door, Zeke looked surprised when she opened it. He was wearing an outfit very similar to the one he’d been wearing when he’d first introduced himself to her; dress slacks and sneakers, a K’s Choice band tee under a suit jacket, and a pair of glasses that made his piercing blue eyes appear even more vibrant. 

“Hi!”

“ _Wow_.” It was painfully obvious that he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, if the pink that shot into his cheeks was any indication, and he cleared his throat in an effort to appear less gobsmacked. “You look… great.”

Feeling her own cheeks heat, Darcy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks.”

“Nice to see you again, Zeke,” Jane hummed as she came to stand just behind Darcy’s shoulders. “What was your last name, again?”

“Uh, Taylor,” Zeke answered, a question in his gaze. “Why?”

The click of a camera shutter behind her made Darcy turn toward the astrophysicist, watching as Jane tucked her phone back out of sight. “No reason.”

Rolling her eyes, Darcy turned back to Zeke, seeing the confusion on his face. “Ignore her. She’s weird. I’m ready to go.”

“Perfect.” Zeke gave Jane a small wave, receiving a nod in response, before Darcy pulled the door shut. They navigated the halls back toward the elevator, pressing the button and waiting for the car to return to their level. “You were in here when it got stuck a couple of months ago, right?”

“Yep,” Darcy said with a nod, glancing his way before the elevator arrived and the doors opened. She put her back against the wall, coat draped over her arms, grinning when Zeke pressed the ‘lobby’ button and came to stand beside her. “It was just for an hour or so. Did they ever find out what happened?”

Zeke shook his head with a frown. “Tony had me look into it, but the worm erased all the traces of itself before we could get to it.”

“That’s kind of diabolical, isn’t it?” Darcy mused, watching him glance over at her with interest. “I just mean they did all that work to break into what _has_ to be one of the best firewalls in the world, and then they just fade into the dark?”

“Yeah,” Zeke hummed. “There’ve been a few hospitals that got hit with the same thing. It shut their entire systems down, asked for a ransom to give their data back. Luckily nobody was hurt.”

Darcy’s tongue clicked in disbelief. “That’s horrible. Damn.”

“There are some very troubled people out there.” 

When the elevator doors opened, they crossed the lobby toward the other bank of elevators, specifically the ones that led down to the basement level garage. “So,” Darcy said as the doors closed, “where are we going tonight?”

The size of Zeke’s eyes grew comically wide. “I thought _you_ were planning things.”

A flash of shock coursed through Darcy’s body. “ _Uhhh_...”

Zeke’s shock gave way to a softly self-satisfied smile. “I’m just kidding.” He didn’t look too put out when Darcy reached out and slapped at his arm playfully. “I took what you said to heart,” he continued. “You wanted pop culture, I delivered pop culture. How does a trivia night sound?”

“ _Oooo!_ Trivia? What kind?”

“From what I read it’s kind of a hodgepodge of topics.”

Impressed that he seemed to be able to both _remember_ what she’d said, _and_ find a suitable activity that included it, the grin on Darcy’s face widened. “That sounds awesome.”

“Oh, good,” Zeke said, shoulders practically sagging in relief, “because it was the only thing that seemed to work and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

The earnesty in his tone was adorable, and Darcy didn’t mind reassuring him. “No disappointment, I promise. I’m actually really excited.” The shy smile he flashed her way was mirrored by her own, and the quiet of the elevator was interrupted by the ding when they arrived. 

Stepping out of the elevator, Darcy cast her gaze around the room. There were a long line of important-looking, black SUVs, and other vehicles that looked like every rental car showroom she’d ever been to. “I’ve never been down here before. These are for anyone to use?”

“Stark makes them available for everyone,” Zeke explained, “but he keeps the private stuff he doesn’t want people touching back here.”

Following him through a large red door, Darcy thought this garage felt _far_ more like the ragtag group of people who fell under the ‘Avengers’ tag. There were several ridiculous sports cars with spoilers and hood air vents, which she was almost certain belonged to Stark himself. Toward one of the corners were a few motorcycles; one was a vintage Harley Davidson, all shiny chrome, while the other was matte, army-issued camo green, complete with a matching sidecar.

It didn’t take a large mental leap to know that the bikes belonged to Bucky and Steve, as she’d spent several early mornings listening to Bucky’s diatribe about eBay and how it was the worst website on the planet. (She hadn’t had it in her to argue that the worst site on the planet was, _obviously_ , 4chan.)

When Zeke stopped next to a champagne-colored Honda Civic, its body riddled with dents and rust, Darcy glanced down at the car then up at him. “This is yours?”

“Yeah. Bought it with my first paycheck back in ‘03.” Zeke’s expression took on a bit of uncertainty. “We can take something else, if you don’t want to -”

“The first thing I bought with my first paycheck was a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper.” There was a beat of silence before Zeke’s laughter echoed throughout the garage, and Darcy’s lips turned up into a smile. “I appreciate someone who can stick with something for this long.”

“Not sure I know how to do anything else.”

The grin on Zeke’s face matched the one on her own. “That makes two of us.”

*

The drive through the streets of New York was hampered by the three inches of snow that had fallen the previous day, but they made it to the bar in time to snag a table that gave them good visuals on the screen that had been erected for the trivia. While Zeke had made his way to the bar to get them drinks, Darcy took the time to people watch. The crowd was a little chaotic, and she could spot the people who were going to be ruthless, which she found pretty funny considering the prizes for the contest were drink and food vouchers and not cash.

When Zeke arrived with their drinks – a malibu and pineapple for her, and a dark stout for himself – Darcy took a long drink then pulled the trivia paperwork toward her. She’d always been a paper pusher, and the organization of the bar’s event was pretty impressive. The tiny golf pencils were a nice touch. “ _Okayyy_ ,” she hummed as she browsed the categories, “so it looks like there’s ten rounds and _oh my god_ , there’s an entire round about serial killers!” Realizing how she’d sounded, pretty excited to be talking about true crime, she glanced up at Zeke with uncertainty. “Sorry. If I get them all right, will you be intimidated?”

“Not at all,” he replied immediately. “Life can be dark. Commiserating in the darkness helps healing.”

Impressed by his attitude, and watching his blue eyes blink behind his glasses, Darcy found herself smiling at him. “Good answer.”

Over the course of the following three hours, Darcy and Zeke held their own. She was able to get all the serial killer questions correctly, surprised more people didn’t know that John Wayne Gacy’s clown name was ‘Pogo.’ (“ _I listen to a lot of true crime podcasts._ ”) She made fairly good work of her pop culture knowledge, averaging eighty-percent per round. Zeke was helpful with history, computers, and, surprisingly, flowers. (“ _I like flowers, what can I say? My mom always had flowers outside and I helped her garden when I was little._ ”)

When all was said and done, they’d come in fifth place, which Darcy thought was pretty good. Their winnings paid for the entirety of their food and drinks, and as they took a step back into the chilly night, Zeke looked over at her with a smile. “Since dinner was free, I’ve got more than enough to get some ice cream,” he said, “if it’s not too cold for you.”

Darcy snorted. “It’s _never_ too cold for ice cream. Or sorbet. No ice cream for this lactose-intolerant lady.” After finding a frozen yogurt place nearby, the pair walked around for a little bit as they enjoyed their treats. “So how did you end up working for _Stark Industries_?”

“I actually interned with _SI_ when I was in high school, then applied right out of college.” Zeke talked with his hands, the spoon in his hand waving through the air. “I did low level stuff until a job in engineering opened up. I applied and got it. Since then I’ve been moving up the ladder. “

“Moving pretty well, if Stark’s letting you up on the restricted levels. He doesn’t really seem like the type to give his trust willy-nilly.”

Zeke gave a soft shrug of his shoulder. “Seems like he’s made it through everything pretty well.”

Nodding, Darcy finished what was left of her sorbet and tossed it in a trash can as they passed. “And you’re good here? Planning on staying at _SI_ for the rest of your natural life? And possibly _after_ , if tech keeps going the way it’s going?”

“I’ll go on record and say that I am not for putting people’s consciousness online,” Zeke said with a smile, “but _Stark Industries_ is all I’ve never known. I basically grew up in its shadow. And it’s a very big, heavy shadow. I don’t know what else I’d do if I wasn’t here. My whole life’s lead up to this point.”

The passion he spoke with made Darcy smile. She appreciated someone who put everything they had into something outside of themselves, something _better_. “Okay, then say Tony would let you do and work on whatever you wanted. What would you do?”

Hesitating, Zeke seemed to think about her question for a long moment, his eyes heading toward the horizon as he grew quiet. “I want to do things no one has ever seen before. Great things. I want to build and design tech that will change the world.”

His face was filled with anticipation, like he was just seconds away from solving something enormous, and Darcy watched his face as she held her breath. There was absolutely nothing more attractive than someone who knew what they wanted and was determined to get there, whatever it took. It’s why she’d fallen in so quickly with Jane, and Selvig, and she could see hints of it in all of the people she admired. “That sounds like a good thing.”

“I’ve got plans,” Zeke said, looking over at her with a smile. “don’t get me wrong. I _know_ what I want and how to get there, I’m just waiting for the right time.”

“Well, if Tony asks, I’ll say you have my vote.”

“That’s sweet of you.”

“And well deserved.” Darcy felt pink flush in her cheeks, and this time it wasn’t because of the cold. Over the course of the night, Darcy had discovered that Zeke was quiet, but funny. He was a gentleman who pulled out her chair and opened doors for her, and while she didn’t normally go for that sort of thing (gender politics being what it was), she found herself appreciating the little things Zeke did. When the night began to get a little too cold for walking, they made their way back to the car and then the tower.

He’d insisted on walking Darcy to her door – one more trait she found endearing – and as they stood there, both of them smiling softly at each other, she reacted without letting herself come up with a reason not to. His cheek was cold when her lips pressed against it, and the way his eyes widened when she pulled back made her chest flutter. The crimson in his face was matched in her own, and Darcy glanced down at the floor, surprised at herself.

Zeke cleared his throat. “We could do this again?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“I’d like that,” Darcy answered with a smile. “Sure.”

“Maybe sometime next week?”

“I could make that work.”

“Excellent.” It seemed like he was reluctant to leave, and Darcy felt herself wanting to linger as well. Finally, he took a step back. “Have a good night, Darcy.”

“You too, Zeke.” She watched him walk back toward the elevators, waving at him before he turned right and disappeared from sight. Darcy stood there, grinning to herself, before she realized what she was doing and rolled her eyes. She was completely unsurprised to find Jane was sitting on the couch, attempting to make it look like she hadn’t been waiting up, but failing hard. Darcy dropped her purse and keys to the ground before holding both of her arms out toward her best friend. “Welp, he didn’t kill me.”

“That’s a relief,” Jane hummed, “because I’d hate to have to find a new assistant.”

“ _Ha ha bloody ha_ ,” Darcy answered, sighing as she collapsed on the couch next to Jane.

“You had fun?”

Darcy grinned as she sat forward and unzipped her boots. “I did!” Recounting the night’s highlights to her best friend, Darcy was surprised at how _fun_ it’d been. Zeke had taken one throwaway comment and turned it into an entire evening. It showed he was observant, and creative, and Darcy’s cheeks began to ache with all the smiling she’d done. Glancing up at the clock, Darcy groaned at the time. “I’m gonna go pass out. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

She left Jane as the astrophysicist started toward the lab, taking enough time to wash her face and brush her teeth. As she crawled between her sheets, Darcy ran the night over in her head, replaying the highlights. As she blinked up at the darkened ceiling, she realized with a start that, other than the moment in the parking garage when she’d spotted their motorcycles, Zeke had been engaging enough that she’d hadn’t thought about either Bucky or Steve _all night_. It wasn’t like she’d accepted the date in a bid to move on from the men she’d never _actually_ had a shot with, but she discovered it’d happened all the same.

 _Many hands can lift a heavy heart_ had been one of her mother’s favorite sayings, and as Darcy feel asleep, a smile turning her lips, she could hear her mother’s voice in her ear, warm and calm.

“Where is she?”

Steve tore his eyes away from the menu on the wall and focused on Bucky. He watched his best friend glance around the space, a frown on his face as he looked for something. No, not something. Some _one_. “She’ll be here,” Steve said, reaching out to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder, “she’s probably just running late.”

“She’s never been late before,” Bucky responded, his expression unchanging. “ _Ever_.”

“Everyone runs late at some point.” Steve could tell his assurances did nothing to calm Bucky, and as more pink flooded into the other man’s cheeks, he felt like this was heading toward a bad situation. Now that he recognized the signs of an impending anxiety attack, he could see it happening in real time. “She could have slept through her alarm.”

Bucky shook his head, jaw tightening as he felt his chest constrict. He was doing his best not to spiral, trying the breathing techniques his therapist had showed him, but it did little to help. He’d become much more aware of his own mental health, and he knew it was not a good sign that something so trivial – like Darcy being late – could push him this close to the edge. He’d wanted to stop giving people power over his own healing, but it was pretty obvious he still had a lot to work through.

He thought after he and Steve’s conversation in the gym that things would be better, that he wouldn’t feel like he was on pins and needles around her, but if his reaction to her simply _running late_ was causing his heart to pound with panic, then he had more to work out than he thought. Bucky tried to pull air into his lungs to calm himself, but it did little good, and he reached out to grip Steve’s hand.

The fact that Bucky reached for him in the middle of a crowded café only heightened Steve’s awareness of the situation and how it seemed to be headed toward something none of them wanted. “Buck, you’re okay, we’re okay, and I’m sure Darcy is alright, too.” Steve kept his voice light, wanting to reassure his best friend. His face slacked with relief when he saw Darcy fly around the corner near the elevators, fingers sifting through her hair before she secured it with elastic. “There she is,” Steve said, taking a step back when Bucky spun to see her.

The second his eyes landed on Darcy, Bucky felt like he could finally take a full breath in. Eric had told him there would be triggers – which was an entirely different sort of horrible that Bucky alone could understand – but he hadn’t thought Darcy’s safety would be one of them. _’It wasn’t just safety you were worried about’_ , Bucky’s traitorous mind echoed. He ignored the voice, pushing those thoughts into the darkest corners of his consciousness. Relief that she was alright was all that mattered.

Bucky watched her through the large glass windows, the messy bun on the top of her head lopsided and bouncing with her steps. It was a good analogy, because as she got closer, Bucky recognized the warm pink tinting her cheeks. There was a smile on her lips as she pointed her eyes toward the floor, some emotion flashing over her face that made Bucky frown. She didn’t look like someone who’d slept past their alarm. She looked... happy.

Steve knew the second she saw them, her face taking on a completely different hue, and he echoed her smile. “We were starting to worry about you. Everything alright?”

Dropping her bag heavily to the ground, Darcy let her shoulders fall with a smile. “Yeah, sorry,” she hummed, pushing her glasses further up on her nose. “I, uh, actually went out last night. Like, on a date.”

Though it didn’t come as a surprise, Steve had to school his features. He knew Bucky was to his right, but his best friend had gone still. And silent. Realizing the conversation was outside of Bucky’s current capabilities, Steve took in on himself to talk enough for the both of them, at least until Bucky could digest and accept the truth of the situation. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said as they moved forward in line. Normally she was here and had their drinks ready, but running late made the wait in line a necessity. “With Zeke. He’s from engineering? We met a couple weeks ago. Here, actually.”

“I remember,” Steve said, keeping his voice light.

“He’s really nice,” she hummed, dragging her bag when they moved forward again. “We’ve gone out a few times now. We just lost track of time. Didn’t even realize it and suddenly it was morning.”

Steve cast his eyes toward the floor, blinking past the flash of discomfort. It was silly to be disappointed, but he felt it burning through his chest regardless. The night he and Darcy had stayed up all night talking seemed like ages ago, and he’d looked back on it what seemed like a million times. Was he putting too much importance on that one night? It made sense, especially since Darcy hadn’t sought him out when she realized she wasn’t leaving the states. Tightening the armor around his heart, Steve looked up at her with a soft smile. “I know how that feels,” Steve said, the grin on her face chasing away some of the darkness from his thoughts.

Heart still skipping a beat when he used those eyelashes like a weapon, Darcy shrugged a shoulder. As Steve stepped up to order their drinks, Darcy turned toward Bucky, the smile on her face falling when she saw the blank expression on his face. “You okay?”

Taking a deep breath in, then blowing it out, Bucky pushed through the fog of his own making, nodding his head at her. “Just tired.”

Darcy frowned, eyes filling with empathy. “Bad dreams?”

“I’m alright,” Bucky said, giving her a twitch of his lips. He didn’t like it when she worried, and the worry was clear in her brilliant hazel eyes.

Taking a step closer to Bucky, Darcy slipped her right hand into his left and squeezed the warm metal. “You can tell me if you’re not. You know that, right? If you need help, all you have to do it ask.”

“I know.” When she squeezed his hand again, Bucky focused on the fact that she was fine, and that her lateness wasn’t due to any dark machinations. When he was alone, he’d think about how he felt more protective toward Darcy than almost anyone else. He would try to reason that it was because she had no powers, or training, which made her more vulnerable than the others. He might worry about Steve and Natasha when they were in the field, but it was a different kind of worry than what he felt for the dark haired woman giving him a warm smile as they held hands.

Steve turned with their drinks and followed the line of their bodies to find Bucky and Darcy were holding hands, grinning at each other. He must have made some kind of noise, because Bucky pulled his hand from Darcy’s and reached for his cup. Steve handed it to him, following the pair as they made their way to a table.

“So what did _you guys_ do last night? Would I be right to assume you were up to no good?”

Chuckling, Steve shook his head. “Actually, we were both in bed by nine.”

Darcy’s eyebrows lifted and her eyes widened. “ _Oh my god_ , you’re so boring! It’s like you’re over one-hundred-years-old or something.”

The sarcastic bite in her tone settled something in Bucky’s stomach. He’d been expecting there to be some kind of hesitation, that something would have changed between them, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that Darcy was just as warm and caring as she’d always been. It felt _good_. _She_ felt good. “If you’re going to be late again, just let me know.”

Darcy raised one dark eyebrow. “You gonna take attendance?”

Bucky’s lips slanted and he blinked at Darcy, glad he didn’t have to hide his concern. “Just want to know that you’re safe.”

Though her heart thumped heavily in her chest at his words, Darcy dipped her chin in Bucky’s direction, an exasperated look on her face. “Buck, come on. It’s the Avengers tower. This is probably one of the safest places in the world.”

When Darcy’s phone buzzed and she reached for it, Bucky and Steve shared a look. There was an entire novel in their eyes, and when Darcy glanced back up at them, her smile bright and voice energetic, they chose to say nothing, hoping she was right. It’s what they’d been brought in to do, after all. It was their job to keep the people in the tower safe from outside threats, and since Darcy was one of those people, it made sense that they’d be worried about her.

 _It’s not just worry_ , Steve’s mind supplied as he watched her hands gesture wildly in the air as she told them what new theory Jane had come up with. _It’s more important than that. **She** is more important than that._

Straightening in his seat, Steve turned the cup in his hands, eyes tracking the way Darcy’s hand reached out to pinch Bucky’s forearm when he said something that wasn’t to her liking. “We should do a movie night again,” he said, earning both of their gazes. “You could bring Zeke, if you wanted.”

Eyebrows lifting toward her hairline, Darcy sat back in her chair and considered what Steve had suggested. “I’d love to bring Zeke along, but I’m not sure we’re there yet?” At their looks of confusion, she tried her best to explain it in ways they’d understand. “We’ve only gone out a handful of times. Not _even_ a handful. Four. We’ve only been on four dates. I think inviting him to a movie with two super soldiers might be a little much, you know?”

“Sure,” Steve said, trying not to let his happiness bleed into his tone. He’d offered, but was more than glad that it seemed like their relationship wasn’t that deep yet. Was it hope burning through his chest, or the knowledge that it didn’t matter because _he_ wasn’t ready, either? It was like Sam had said: until he was certain, until he was _sure_ , there was no use holding his hand out before he knew for certain what he wanted. What he _needed_.

“Besides, I like having the two of you all to myself,” Darcy said, expression losing some of the shine when Bucky turned and looked out the window instead of responding. She shared a look with Steve, trying to understand what thoughts were sliding behind his blue eyes, but the answer was elusive.

“Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Hmm, I’m actually going out again tomorrow night,” Darcy hummed, “but we could try for this weekend?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, refusing to give in to the darkness that was clouding his mind, despite his attempts to push it away. “Works for us.”

Steve was shuffling papers on his desk when he heard a knock at his office door. He called out ‘come in’ and glanced up, eyebrows lifting in surprise. It had been years since he’d seen his visitor, and he was sure the shock showed on his face. “Sharon,” he breathed, attempting to slow the guilty beating of his heart.

“Hi, Steve,” Sharon hummed, giving him a soft smile. It was clear her arrival hadn’t been anticipated, and she watched Steve shuffle through his memories to see if there was a reason she’d be visiting him out of the blue.

“Hi. What are you, I mean, are you here on, uh, business?”

“No. I wish. This visit is more of a... personal nature. Can we talk for a few minutes?”

Uncertainty and alarms were ringing in Steve’s head, going over everything he could remember that might have required Sharon Carter to seek him out. Their last real interaction had been the ill-conceived kiss they’d shared while he, Bucky, and Sam had been on the run from the government. As far as he knew, she hadn’t gotten in trouble for helping them, and though it had left things a bit awkward, he couldn’t come up with a reason behind her visit. “Sure, yeah, come in.”

Sharon made her way inside and took a seat in front of his desk as he busied himself with clearing it of the papers he’d been working on. Gaze sliding, she let her eyes sweep through the space, noting the thread-bare personal touches he’d sprinkled around the office. One item in particular caught her eye, and she left out a soft exhale. “She kept clippings about you, did you know?” At his look of confusion, she nodded toward the compass that held a picture of her aunt inside. “Whole albums full of newspaper articles, informing the country of your heroic missions and successes.”

Eyebrows falling, Steve followed her line of sight, lips lifting. “They embellished a lot.”

“Had to sell those papers, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose.” When Sharon went quiet, blinking down on the floor, Steve frowned. There was something in her shoulders, some kind of reluctance and hesitation, and though he didn’t know her as well as he should, he could tell she was dealing with _something_. Something that’d brought her to _his_ office. “Are you in trouble? Something wrong at work?”

“Oh, no,” Sharon said, apology in her gaze. “Things are good. They’re great, actually. Everything settled down after...”

“... after we left the country?” When she smiled and averted her eyes, it didn’t take a genius to tell that his and Bucky’s arrival back in the states had caused some chaos. “And now we’re back, probably throwing your entire life into turmoil again.”

Sharon shook her head, hair sliding over her shoulders. “Oh, no, it’s not work that’s the problem. I need your advice.”

Surprise didn’t begin to cover what he was filled with, but Steve took a seat at his desk, eyebrows raising. “Oh?”

“You’re close with Tony,” she said, watching as Steve’s eyebrows furrowed and a look of uncertainty crossed his face, “or, at least, closer than I am. We’d see each other every once in a while at holiday dinners, when Aunt Peg could convince him to stop by. It was always hard to keep a finger on him. Peg said it was one of her biggest regrets. That she couldn’t have played a larger part of his childhood, especially after his parents died.”

The careful way she’d avoided saying that Howard and Maria Stark had been murdered was evident, and Steve couldn’t help the flash of grief. He’d worked closely with Howard for some time, and the man’s loss was still felt. He could completely understand Peggy wanting to make sure Tony was taken care of after his parents passed. “It wasn’t her fault,” Steve said, “and she had a lot to take care of.”

“That’s kind of why I’m here,” Sharon said as she sat up straighter in her chair, adopting a more serious look. “I was Aunt Peg’s power of attorney. I went through everything so I could wrap up her affairs. Uncle Dan did what he could before he passed, but there were things she didn’t want him to have to deal with. They passed on to me.”

Steve sighed, trying to imagine what it must have been like for her. Looking through the history of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s founding, Steve wasn’t sure how Peggy Carter had been able to do it. Even with help, she’d bore the brunt of the duties, and it was something he knew she’d excelled at. Peggy’s connection to S.H.I.E.L.D. was one of the reasons why he’d agreed to work with them in the first place. He shook his head, glancing back up at Sharon with empathy in his eyes. “That’s a heavy responsibility.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sharon agreed. “I’m here because she left me a letter, and the information in the letter could have a large effect on how things run around here. I’m not exactly sure what to do about it.”

“What happened?”

Sharon shifted in her seat, uncertainty and hesitation on her face. “I’m not sure I should tell you. Actually, I’m not sure I should tell _anyone_.”

Steve’s mouth turned down at the corners. “You’ve got to give me something to go on.”

“The information involves Tony.”

“Tell him.”

The two words had fallen from Steve’s lips immediately, without hesitation, and Sharon blinked at the soldier. “What?”

“Whatever it is,” Steve said with feeling, “you should tell him. Too many people have hidden the truth from him, including myself. He deserves the truth. All of it.”

Shifting in her chair, Sharon’s lips turned down at the edges. “What if telling him the information could result in pain for others?”

Steve shook his head, sitting back in his chair. He had what felt like a lifetime of letting Tony down, or trying to protect him through some kind of misplaced guilt. He couldn’t do that any longer. He _wouldn’t_. “ _Tony_ should get to decide what to do with the information. It’s nobody else’s call.”

Sharon’s eyes were heavy with surprise. “I didn’t think you’d –“

“Keeping the truth from someone is never the answer, _especially_ with Tony. I’ve learned that the hard way.” He watched Sharon smile then look down at the floor, aware she knew exactly what he was referring to. “Whatever it is, you should tell him.”

This time it was Sharon’s turn to sigh, and she sat back in her chair, face falling. “I’m not sure it’ll go over very well.”

“He can handle it,” Steve assured her, no hint or thread of doubt in his voice.

“It’s not just _him_ I have to worry about.” A look of exhaustion colored Sharon’s eyes, and she reached up to run a hand over her face. “I don’t know how Peg was able to do all she did and not go insane. It makes me worried about what other skeletons are hiding in the closet, waiting to jump out.”

“All we can do is handle it as it comes. That’s all any of us can do.”

Sharon took a moment to study Steve’s face before her lips twitched upward. “You know, you’d make a great motivational speaker. Ever consider running for office?”

A huff of laughter broke from Steve’s chest as he shook his head. “Not my calling,” he answered. “I’m okay where I am.”

“Are you?”

Steve felt Sharon’s gaze on him, trying to gauge where he was, and he glanced away, feeling guilt in his chest. “Things got very complicated. I’m sorry if -”

“Steve,” Sharon said, stopping whatever soft-let down he’d be about to give her. “It’s hard to stay in this line of work and form connections. It takes the right person.”

Though she made sense, it didn’t help the regret he felt for not reaching out to her sooner. “I’m sorry I wasn’t that person for you.”

Sharon smiled, looking down at her feet. “I’m in no rush. I’ve got more than enough excitement to keep me interested.”

“You let me know if you ever want to dive back in. We could make a spot on the team for someone like you.”

Again, Sharon couldn’t help the soft grin at Steve’s carefully chosen words. “I like where I’m at and what I’m doing. It’s less clandestine than S.H.I.E.L.D. ever was, which is saying something.” When he nodded at her, she took another moment to really look at him “I’m glad you’re back with S.H.I.E.L.D., or whatever this S.H.I.E.L.D. and _Stark Industries_ team up is. Does it feel good to be back home?”

“It has its moments,” Steve said, blinking warm eyes. “Things are settling down now.”

“That’s good. That’s really good.” When another few seconds passed, Sharon climbed to her feet, watching Steve do the same. “Thank you for listening. And for the advice. It might make my job a little harder, but it was good advice.”

“Of course.” Steve went still when Sharon leaned into him, letting out the breath he’d been holding when she pressed her lips to his cheek then pulled back. There was something in her eyes, some kind of finality, and Steve felt it reverberate in his own chest, too. “It was good seeing you, Sharon.”

“You too, Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, I want you to focus on my voice.  
> Do you hear me in your ear? Good. Listen closely:  
> I love you.  
> Even if you're having a hard time loving yourself,  
> that just means I get to love you a little extra.  
> As a good friend said recently: Depression is a dirty, dirty liar.  
> You can't see the forest through the trees.  
> But _I_ can see you.  
> You shine so bright.  
> You're worth so much more than you know.  
> <3<3<3


	30. Falling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Zeke go to the movies. Bucky and Steve return to the tower after a therapy appointment. Darcy falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Happy Monday!  
> Don't get me wrong, Mondays still suck, but hey! Not everyday can be the weekend!  
> Look. You guys. You're amazing. All the comments/kudos/reblogs?  
> You sure know how to make a girl feel special.  
> Chapter 30? Already? Time flies!!  
> <3  
>   
> 

_The reddest hue_  
_Reminds you of you_  
_Clinging love and falling true_  
_On and On_  
_All I want is honesty_  
_Tree has snapped_  
_Sparks are flying everywhere_  
_Cables burnt and lines flare_  
_And when the all in all_  
_Comes falling down_  
_It was just an accident_  
_Something you can't help_  


**Fire Scene - S. Carey**

In the weeks since she’d started seeing Zeke, Darcy had found herself endlessly amused by this utter lack of popular knowledge. Yes, he knew that _The Hunger Games_ was a book _and_ a movie, but he’d neither read the book nor seen the film. The same went for _Harry Potter_ , the _Alien_ saga, and one of her favorite movies, _Major League_. Things that Darcy could look back on with fond memories meant absolutely _nothing_ to him.

She delighted in telling him about the things he’d missed during his quest to be the best engineer in the world, enjoying the faces he made when she explained some of the weirder bits of useless trivia that knocked around her head.

_Jimmy Buffet played the 'margarita guy' in **Jurassic World**._   


_'Washington' is the most common name used in cities and towns. 'Springfield' is number two, and a Springfield can be found in forty-one different states.  
_

__

_Spiders hate the smell of peppermint.  
_

__

Other than her self-imposed mission of pop culture downloading, Darcy discovered she actually _really liked_ Zeke. He was sweet, and soft, and never made her feel like she was talking too much. She had a bad habit of dominating a conversation, but it appeared he either didn’t mind… or was more than happy to let her do the majority of the talking.

When he _did_ talk, Zeke was captivating. She’d already known his enjoyment of flowers could be traced to his mother, but he’d elaborated and explained that his _father_ had been the one who’d lit the engineering fire in his chest. 

_“He valued knowledge, and knew how to wield it effectively. It made him a great businessman,” Zeke explained. “He had a lot of good ideas about how to move the world into a new age of technology, but never had the chance to make it happen.”_

_Darcy’s face took on an empathetic expression. “He passed?”_

_Zeke nodded softly. “Murder. In 2008.”_

_The heartfelt gasp broke free from her chest, and Darcy’s eyes filled with compassion. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry, Zeke.”_

_“It’s okay. It’s been long enough that I use it for fuel more than anything. It keeps me going. Before I make any big decisions, I think ‘what would dad have done?’ He hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”_

_“What kind of big decisions?”_

_“Asking you on a date.”_

_Darcy’s grin widened when he blinked those gorgeous blue eyes at her. “Yeah? I got your dad’s seal of approval?”_

_“Without a doubt.”_

_“And if he’d thought I wasn’t worth the trouble?”_

_“... we’d have had words about our difference of opinion.”_

Dinner was still sitting warmly in her stomach - as were three margaritas - but she still managed to find room for some peanut butter M&Ms. She followed behind Zeke as he found their seats in the half-empty movie theater. The leather seats were electric, and she couldn’t help the giggle of excitement as she pressed the button and lifted the legs. “This is super fancy!”

“I think the last movie I saw in the theaters was _Casper_.”

Eyes widening, Darcy turned toward him with a look of shock on her face. “ _What?!_ The Christina Ricci, Bill Pullman, Devon Sawa ghost movie?!”

“If those are the actors names, then yes.”

“Wow. _Wow_. Zeke.” The good natured roll of his eyes made her lips tug upward, and she held out her package of M&Ms toward him. “I’ve got so much to teach you.”

Zeke poured a few chocolate bits into his hand then passed the sweet back to Darcy. “I’m more than willing to learn. Especially if you’re my teacher.”

“ _Ooohh_ ,” Darcy hummed, eyebrows wriggling, “you hot for teacher?” The pink that flushed into his cheeks and the way he avoided her gaze meant she’d hit the nail on the head, and she sat back in her chair with a satisfied expression. “I should warn you that there are a lot of commercials at the theater now.”

“ _What_?” The volume of his voice made Darcy giggle, and he leaned closer to her. “But it’s the _movies_! There shouldn’t be -”

“You’re preaching to the choir, trust me. Things have changed since the late nineties, and not all of them for the better.” With Zeke so close, Darcy was able to take a deep breath of him into her lungs. He smelled like spice, probably from whatever aftershave he used, but underneath that was the smell of something else. It’d taken her a bit to realize it was _metal_. Like soldering iron and circuit boards. 

As the trailers began, the first screen bathing the audience in green, Darcy lifted her phone to put it on silent, and noticed that she’d missed a text from Steve.

**Steve** : _Does Tuesday work for our movie night?_

Fingers flying over the screen, Darcy typed out her reply and had almost hit ‘send’ before a new message flashed. This one was from Steve, too, but it was just an image, and she pressed her finger to take a closer look. At first, she was confused by what she was seeing, but when it all clicked into place, she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

A fine layer of sand was covering the floor, making the room look like a poor man’s excuse for a beach. The blue gym mats were covered in flecks of shining diamonds, the flash catching and glinting, and the deflated punching bag reminded her so much of a rotten pumpkin that she had to bury her face in her elbow to keep her laughter inside.

When Zeke’s shoulder knocked into hers, Darcy directed her moist eyes in her date’s direction, holding out her phone where he could see it. He took the outstretched phone and angled it for a better look, squinting through his glasses. His expression remained confused, and when he raised an eyebrow at her, Darcy leaned close enough to explain. “Bucky and Steve apparently enjoy mutilating punching bags. Pretty sure Stark’s started to buy them by the truckload.”

The slightly mystified look in Zeke’s eyes was adorable, and after replying to Steve that Tuesday _did_ work for a movie night, she tucked her phone into her pocket and settled back in her seat. The plot of the movie was simple, the characters and situations predictable, and in the quiet darkness of the theater, Darcy was able to let her mind wander.

Now that the holidays were over and things were settling back into a normal routine, Darcy realized with a start that it’d been over six months since she and Jane had been hired on at _Stark Industries_. Six months of being in one place. Six months of new faces, new theories, and new friends. Things were _so much_ different than she thought they’d be, and her head still swam with the truth of it all.

Though Darcy could be particularly anal retentive when it came to her work, she was generally a ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ type of girl. She’d learned early on that working with Jane Foster meant things would never be concrete, but this was quickly becoming the longest time they’d stayed in one place at a time. The job security was nice, even if she didn’t really know _why_ Stark had found it important enough to accept all of their terms, and not having to worry about how they were going to make rent was a nice change of pace.

But it wasn’t _just_ their location that had changed. Darcy had made more friends in the past half-year than she had in the prior _five_ years put together. It wasn’t just the _amount_ of friends, but also the _depth_ of those friendships that gave her pause. If you had told her a year ago that she’d become close friends with Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, Darcy would have laughed and asked for some of the edibles you’d obviously taken, because _how_ on _Earth_ could that be a true thing?

It had taken Darcy a lot of soul searching - and one pointed question from Janey - to fully understand the reasons behind some of her actions. Specifically, _why_ she’d been afraid to seek Steve out when she knew she’d be staying in New York. Even though they’d only spoken twice, the night they’d spent together had been amazing. She’d learned more about the soldier in those nine hours than any history book could have ever taught her. He’d been sweet, and funny, and the way his nose scrunched up when he was showing embarrassment made her stomach feel like a trampoline.

There had been a weight in his gaze, something that wrapped around Darcy and held her captive. The intensity he carried was intimidating, and gorgeous, and though she’d put on a good mask of control in the moment, she’d felt so completely _thrown_ by him that she’d tucked her tail between her legs and chosen knowing, willful ignorance. But Steve’s heart was so big that he’d never made her feel guilty for it, and had been nothing but friendly and open with her in the months that had passed. Her actions could have derailed their friendship before it’d ever really started, and she was immeasurably grateful that Steve had never held it against her.

If it hadn’t been for Bucky, there was no telling how long she’d have been able to avoid running into Steve. She’d joked once with Bucky that the private elevator felt like some kind of magical portal, which lead to infinite possibilities and situations, but the more she thought about it, the more she _believed_ it. What hand of fate had put her and Bucky in that elevator together? Whose ever hand it was, Darcy carried a heavy gratitude for the way things had worked out. Six months in, she couldn’t imagine her life without either soldier.

 _Steve_ , with those pink cheeks, brilliant blue eyes, and those _eyelashes_. There oughta be a law against someone looking as good as he did. _Or_ a law against having that much gravitas and honesty. When Steve looked at her, Darcy felt it thrill up and down her spine, like she couldn’t believe that she got to _be next to_ someone like him. He was kind, warm, and admirable. He made her want to be a better person, if only to live up to his example.

 _Bucky,_ with the hair that hung over his brow and hid that heavy grey gaze. Though it had taken him some time ( ~~and her relentless badgering~~ ), he’d opened up to her, and Darcy had found him to be charming, and charismatic, and _so sharp_. He had edges, but they seemed to soften around her, and she could trace it in his eyes when he smirked at her. He didn’t mind that she was overdramatic, always ready to bring her down a peg or two when it was called for, knowing he could expect the same thing from her.

Darcy was almost positive that verbally sparring with Bucky had become one of her favorite things in the world. Adding in Steve as some kind of pseudo-referee was like a _one-two_ punch that always left her feeling like stars were floating around her head. Pushed and pulled between the two of them was a test in resiliency and she wasn’t sure how she’d managed to keep her head above the waves. Drowning would be so very easy, and part of her wondered why she continued to tread water. 

With her mind residing back in the tower with the two super soldiers and _not_ in the movie theater, Darcy smiled when she felt fingers wrap around hers. Slowly, her face took on an expression of confusion and she looked down at the hand clasping hers, feeling like something about it was wrong. Blinking quickly, she let out a huff of frustrated air at herself.

The something that had felt _wrong_ was that the hand holding hers was soft and covered in skin, as opposed to Bucky’s hand, which was still warm, but also smooth and a darker grey than his eyes were on a normal day. Zeke’s palm was the slightest bit sweaty, and when he continued to smile softly at her, Darcy was able to give him the slightest hint of a grin, her brain trying to make heads and tails of the betrayal her mind had supplied.

The rest of the movie passed in a haze. Other than the soundtrack (which she’d be buying when she got back to the tower), Darcy wouldn’t have been able to tell you what had happened _exactly_ , but like a bunch of rom-coms that had come before, she was fairly certain she’d make a good guess. The fact that the movie was so formulaic meant she’d had almost an entire two hours with her thoughts in the dark theater, trying to analyze her own feelings and the dissonance she felt inside.

Darcy still hadn’t completely recovered by the time they returned to the tower, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as the elevator took them up to her floor. Zeke hadn’t commented on her quietness, actually carrying the conversation by himself, regaling her with stories about what it was like working in the engineering department. She nodded along and smiled, but her mind was so far away that she felt a stab of shame when she realized how unfair she’d been to him. “Zeke –“

Before she had a chance to continue, Zeke had moved into her personal space and pressed his lips to hers. It was over in a second, more rushed than anything else, but Darcy’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes fluttered back open. Just like her body had been primed to expect Bucky’s hand in hers and not Zeke’s, she felt that same _wrongness_ , except this time it was because Zeke’s eyes were a different color than Steve’s, whose face had flashed in her mind, with that gorgeous cerulean that she’d come to know so well. Her memories supplied an alternative vision, and she could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips against hers and feel his fingers as they’d sifted through her hair.

The pink was high in Zeke’s cheeks, and it was painfully obvious he hadn’t given the movement much thought before diving in. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, watching Darcy blink at him, “If you didn’t want –“

“It’s okay,” Darcy said, pushing at the feelings bubbling in her chest, shoving them aside and refocusing on her date.

“I just... I really like you, Darcy,” Zeke continued, his voice gaining strength and confidence, “you make everything a little brighter. I think that’s something I’ve been missing.”

“I like you, too,” Darcy replied, glad that she didn’t have to lie.

“Good,” Zeke said, relief clear in his voice, “that’s good.” He reached for her again, letting their clasped hands swing between them as he smiled at Darcy. “If I could, I’d love to see you again next week.”

The fact that he hadn’t noticed the conflict in her eyes meant she was doing a better job at shielding than she thought she was. “I’d like that,” Darcy said with a nod and a smile, warming when she saw the grin that graced his face, eyes shining at her behind his glasses. Before she would come up with a reason _not_ to, she closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. She could tell she’d surprised him, but he seemed to recover quickly, lifting a hand to cup her cheek.

When Darcy pulled back, the look of happiness on Zeke’s face was so bare that she felt her throat grow tight. Zeke broke their connection first, hand slipping from hers as he put space between them, though his expression made it clear he would have much rather stayed. “Have a good night. I’ll text tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, eyes following his progress down the hall until he disappeared around the corner. When he was out of sight, Darcy felt her shoulders slump forward, her face losing some of its certainty. She thought she’d been doing a good job of focusing on what she had in front of her and not on things that would never be, but if her distracted thoughts and the feeling of guilt were any indication, she needed to do a much better job.

Letting out a sigh, Darcy pushed through the door to her and Jane’s rooms, hazel eyes sweeping over the space for her best friend. She didn’t see Jane, but she _did_ find someone lounging on the couch that she recognized. “Hey,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor and watching as aquamarine eyes swung in her direction, “who said you could be in here?”

“I was invited,” Thor said with a grin before climbing to his feet. He closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds, and didn’t seem to care how Darcy squeaked when he pulled her into a tight hug and lifted her from the floor.

Pretty sure she’d never get used to the strength in Thor’s arms – but thankful she got to ogle them from time to time – Darcy rolled her eyes until the Asgardian put her down. “It’s nice to see you too, Spaceman.”

“I’m not certain you can refer to me as a Spaceman if I live here on Earth.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about old habits.”

Thor’s chin dimpled in confusion. “I do not believe I’ve the phrase.”

“Oh. Right. ‘Old habits die hard,’” Darcy explained, watching his eyes light with recognition. “So who do I owe for getting to see that handsome face of yours?”

Thor waited until she’d pulled off her boots and had taken a seat on the couch before answering her. “Jane and I were interrupted in the middle of, uh, _dinner_ ,” he said, though Darcy was able to tell food probably hadn’t been the thing on the menu, “and she rushed to the lab with an idea.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said with a sigh, leaning further back and pulling her knees beneath her, “she does that from time to time.”

“I think she’s brilliant and I would never attempt to come between her and her work.”

“Oh, buddy, I know.” The smile Thor gave her when she reached out to squeeze his knee was warm, and she felt some kind of calm settle in her chest as she blinked at the god-king. “She knows it, too.”

“Good,” Thor said with a nod and another grin. When the woman beside him went quiet, Thor cast a considering gaze in her direction. He was not used to such quiet from Jane’s best friend, and the look on her face gave him pause. “Jane said that you went out tonight. Did you have a good time?”

Pulled out of the internal torment of her mind, and feeling like she wasn’t currently fit for consumption by _anyone_ , Darcy heaved a large sigh. There were few people in the world that she could talk to about how she was feeling, and lucky for her, Thor was one of them. She trusted the man with her life, it made sense that she’d trust him with everything else, too. “I did.”

“Your words do not match your expression,” Thor said softly.

Unsurprised that he’d been able to see that something was weighing on her, Darcy stretched her arm across the back of the couch then rested her chin on her bicep as she blinked at Thor. “I’ve been seeing this guy for a couple of months now.”

“So Jane has said. She also explained that he works here.”

Darcy nodded. “He’s in the engineering department. He works closely with Tony.”

“Then he must be a very smart man.”

“He must be,” Darcy hummed. When Thor continued to look at her, waiting for her to explain more, she found herself struggling with what to say. “He’s nice, and sweet, and we have a good time when we go out. I like him. I do.”

When she went quiet and didn’t elaborate, Thor returned her gesture from earlier and reached out to squeeze Darcy’s knee. “My mother, who was a very brilliant woman and could see through any disguise, would say that she saw a shade of conflict in your eyes.”

“Your mom sounds awesome.”

“She was. She _was_ awesome.” Thor waited for Darcy to continue, but when her eyes became unfocused and she began to chew on her lower lip, his gaze turned thoughtful. “Is it something I could assist with?”

Tongue clicking, Darcy’s eyes filled with affection. “I wish it was something physical strength could conquer. I promise you’d be the first person I’d call.”

“Not Steve?”

Something in the way he’d asked the question made suspicion cloud Darcy’s eyes. She knew from Jane that she and Thor had discussed Steve and Bucky and how they were together, but it was pretty obvious they’d talked about much more than she’d assumed. “What did Jane tell you?”

“Simply that she worried for your heart,” Thor said, his Asgardian cadence making the words pretty.

“I’m positive she told you more than just that.” At the small shrug of his shoulder, Darcy ran a hand over her face. “I let myself develop feelings I shouldn’t have, for _people_ I shouldn’t have, and now I’m left dealing with the aftermath.”

“Though the brain would like it, we cannot help who our hearts open for. That has remained unchanged across the realms.”

“I’m trying to get over it. I am. I really am.”

“Perhaps it’s not who you’re trying to get over, but _how_ , and with _who_.”

Darcy wanted to argue with him, and explain that she wasn’t using Zeke to get over her feelings for Steve or Bucky, but part of her could taste the lie. She meant what she’d said: she really did like Zeke. He was a great guy, and she _really_ wished she felt more for him than she did. She just needed time for it to develop, time for her to deaden the part of her that thrilled every time she and the soldier’s touched. Saying it aloud just made it sound more ridiculous: She had Big Feelings (capital B and capital F) for _both_ Steve and Bucky, even though they were _together_ , and she wasn’t sure how to switch it off. “You think I’m trying to distract myself instead of moving on?”

Thor sat up a little straighter, reaching out so he could squeeze her hand. “I’m saying that you are a good, kind woman, and that if something doesn’t feel right, forcing it will help no one and will result in more heartache down the road. If I could shield your heart, I would, but even that is beyond my control.”

The empathy and compassion pouring off Thor in waves brought tears to Darcy’s eyes. He was right. She had choices to make, and the truth of it tasted like ash on her tongue. She needed to talk to Steve and Bucky, so she could air her thoughts and, hopefully, begin the real, tough work of making their friendship stronger than any crushes she’d developed for them. She was pushing Zeke away from her heart because of something that would never be, and in turn, robbing herself of a chance at something _real_. 

She was hoping for an oasis but would only ever find a mirage. It was time to shore up the leaks and make her heart watertight. Darcy took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly, giving Thor a watery grin when his hand squeezed hers. “You give good advice.”

“If my words helped you find solace in any way, then I am delighted.”

‘ _This is what it must feel like to have an older brother_ ’, Darcy thought, bombarded by feelings as she tried to reconcile the rolling emotional ocean waves in her chest. She opened her mouth to ask about how New Asgard was coming along (and if he’d be able to convert Mjolnir into a trident of some kind), but was interrupted by Jane as she pushed her way into the living space. 

Her best friend’s blue lace bra and matching knickers were the only thing Jane was wearing, though the astrophysicist was also sporting a bright red blush on all that exposed skin. Seeing Jane in her underwear wasn’t shocking (they’d crossed that bridge ages ago), but it was clear on her friend’s face that _something_ was wrong. “What’s up?”

“You have to marry Zeke,” Jane said, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around her shoulders before collapsing on the couch next to Thor.

Satisfied that she’d been right in assuming Thor and Jane hadn’t gotten interrupted by Jane’s idea in the middle of _dinner_ , but something a little more steamy, Darcy’s face took on a tint of confusion at the scientist’s words. “What? Why?”

“I was coming back from the lab and I, uh, ran into him in the hallway.”

Eyes widening, Darcy sat forward. “ _What_?!”

“Yeah,” Jane said, a look of horror on her face, “I turned the corner and _bam!_ there he was. I think he was more surprised than I was.” When Darcy went quiet, Jane’s brown eyes flicked toward her best friend, face screwing up when she saw Darcy’s eyes were closed behind her glasses, a hand pressed over her mouth as her shoulders shook with laughter. “Shut up.”

“That is… unfortunate,” Thor said, trying to point an empathetic expression toward his girlfriend. When Darcy snorted behind her hand, it became too much, and he, too, started laughing.

“Offering my hand in marriage because someone saw your undies seems a bit of a stretch,” Darcy said, her voice higher than normal as she reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes, shoulders still shaking. “I mean, the Big Guy hasn’t even met him yet. I’ve got to get his Asgardian seal of approval on whoever I bring home.”

“Darcy,” Thor said, his eyes dancing with mirth, though sobering slightly at Darcy’s words, “that is a great honor to be bestowed. Thank you.”

“You’re so very welcome,” Darcy hummed, watching Jane dramatically roll her eyes, “but how do you feel about possible suitors having seen Jane mostly naked?”

“It is not ideal, but I do not believe it would cause any lasting issues.”

“Good! Jane! Draw up the dowry and find the cows!”

When both Thor and Darcy broke into laughter again, their guffaws filling the air, Jane’s cheeks reheated. “I hate both of you.”

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to find one,” Steve said with a shake of his head, glancing over at Bucky as the other man lifted his collar higher, his lover’s eyes sliding toward the people they were passing on the sidewalk. Bucky had been doing better in crowds, even going to his therapy appointments by himself, but when it was nice out and there were _this_ many people around, Steve could understand a little bit of a hesitation.

“You can find anything on the internet these days,” Bucky said with a frown. “Besides, it’s all vintage. I can’t put something new on it. It needs to be period appropriate.” When Steve gave him an amused grin, Bucky rolled his eyes at his best friend. “Natasha used the phrase before.”

“She was probably making fun of you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Smiling, Steve directed his gaze down toward the sidewalk, satisfaction thumping in his chest. At first, he’d felt uncertain about Bucky’s desire to find and restore a vintage bike, the kind the army had favored in the war. He’d done the only thing he really knew to do: he’d asked Bucky’s therapist, Eric.

Eric had explained that hyperfixation could be a problem, but if Bucky was needing to use his hands as an outlet, buying and restoring motorcycles was a pretty safe choice. _’If he starts letting it monopolize his time, or is putting off engagements to work on it, **that’s** when we’ll need to start worrying.’_

“I was thinking we could see what Natasha’s doing,” Steve said, seeing Bucky glance his way at the suggestion. “She’ll only talk if you pull it out of her, but I think she might be dealing with a lot.”

Bucky knew Steve was right, that Natasha _was_ struggling with choices to be made, but he wasn’t sure what help they’d be. “Just to get her mind off of things?”

“Sure. She always gets on us for not going out more, so maybe we make a weekend of it. Get out of the city. Recharge.”

“We could always go check on Bekah,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I know Okoye would love to see us.”

“Apparently you and I know two very _different_ Okoyes.” At Bucky’s snort of laughter, Steve glanced over, his chest tightening with happiness when he saw the first real smile of the day grace his best friend’s face.

The smile was wiped clean when they heard a large explosion and the unmistakable screams of terror from somewhere nearby. They were running before the thought had entered their heads. People began streaming from the next street over, and Steve’s heart seized when he realized they were running from the direction of the Tower. Picking up the pace, they skidded around the corner, eyes lighting on the horror before them. “Oh god.”

Saturday mornings were one of Darcy’s favorite times. Others would say that they like Saturdays because they weren’t at work and had time to do whatever they wanted. _Darcy_ enjoyed Saturdays because of the _possibilities_. Yes, errands would still need to be run, but it was always an open-ended adventure, which spoke to Darcy on a deeply personal level. It was one of the reasons why she loved working for Jane (besides getting to spend all her time with her best friend); there was no telling where they’d be going next.

This fact had changed since she and Jane had become _Stark Industries_ employees, but the sense of uncertainty still weighed heavily around the work. They were currently permanent, but there was no telling what the next work day would bring. Darcy loved living on her toes, and would argue it was one of the main reasons she and Jane worked so well together.

She’d been up late the night before, spending quality time with Thor and Jane, able to feel more solid by the end of their conversation. Darcy wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done in a past life to earn the scientist and god-king’s friendship, but she was more grateful than she thought humanly possible.

Darcy had convinced Jane that it was the perfect day to do a little window shopping, one of their _favorite_ activities. More often than not, they’d end the day without spending any money, but getting out of the lab and doing something fun always seemed to get the creative juices flowing. Judging by their lack of concrete movement on the power source front, it was much needed. 

The weather forecast was perfect - unseasonable warmth in the high 30s to low 40s - and she was looking forward to a fun day with her best friend. She’d left Jane in the lobby, running back upstairs when she realized she’d forgotten her backpack, _just in case_ they found something they couldn’t live without, _and_ so her hands would be free for browsing.

Imagining all the vintage-y goods they’d stumble across, Darcy’s grip tightened on the straps of her backpack, hazel gaze slipping up to the numbers display and watching them count down toward the lobby. As the number sixty-nine flipped by, she couldn’t help the snort of laughter, rolling her eyes at the childish thoughts that jumped into her head.

Stumbling, Darcy reached out to grab the elevator railing, eyes widening as she heard a large **BOOM!** emanate from somewhere below her feet. Another loud explosion roared before the lights in the elevator flashed to the same eerie red color as they had when she and Bucky had been stuck for over an hour. “You’re okay,” Darcy breathed to herself, gaze swinging around the interior. “Everything is fine.”

Darcy screamed when the elevator began to fall, keeping a death grip on the railing in the muted crimson light. She heard the unmistakable popping of metal snapping before dropping another ten feet. Crumpling to the floor when the elevators brakes ground the car to a stop, Darcy scrambled to her knees, resting her cheek against the stainless steel railing, eyes screwing shut. “ _Ohhhhh balls_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I discovered an issue:  
> When I talk about all you gorgeous people in real life, I struggled with what to call you.  
> 'Readers' seems so trivial, because you're more than that to me.  
> You're my friends. Every one of you.  
> All of us, going through life, but looking for a respite in the form of words.  
> Fandom can be a messy place, but let me simplify my thoughts.  
> We might not have been in the same place at the same time, but I feel you there.  
> When I tear up over fictional characters, I know you're there with me.  
> When I laugh at something that's said, I imagine I can hear your laughter, floating on the wind.  
> When I hurt, I know you feel it, too.  
> Distance means nothing, so never feel like you can't call me your friend.  
> I am _absolutely_ your friend.  
> That person in Iowa that shares the same joys and heartaches that you do.  
> Friends. Via Words.  
> How awesome is that?!  
> <3<3<3


	31. When The Bell Tolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avengers Tower is Attacked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Things are picking up here and I'd suggest you gird your loins!  
> (Or not. Go ahead and keep those loins un-girded if you wish)  
> As always, I'm blown away at the feedback you guys gift me with.  
> I read every comment and just know you put such a large smile on my face.  
> And now, without further ado...  
> <3  
>   
> 

_I never thought it would be me_  
_Now I'm layin' here begging you for mercy_  
_Wondering if you'll leave or see me through these_  
_Blood stains_  
_Take me with my mistakes_  
_You're who's left with this pain_  


**When The Bell Tolls - Anthony Ramos**

The scene before them was one of chaos. Large chunks of stone littered the ground. The people streaming toward them were covered in dust, making their skin appear muted and muddy. Steve couldn’t help but be reminded of the Battle of New York, and the hell Loki and the Chitauri had wrought. As more and more people flooded the street, Steve reached down to help someone climb to their feet, looking up as more people ran toward him.

Turning the corner and seeing what was left of the ground floor of the Tower brought Bucky to a standstill. Between the crying, the screams, and the wailing of sirens, he had to force himself to move further and follow after Steve. It looked like a warzone, and for a split second he could taste the bitterness of fear. His knees wanted to give out, so many cursed memories flooding into his brain that it left him staggering. When Bucky recognized a woman in a security uniform - though it was no longer blue but gray and covered in dust and debris - he closed the distance quickly. “Gladys? What happened?”

The woman shook her head, casting large eyes around the area, shock shown in the shaking of her hands. “Something inside, on the lower levels. Maybe the basement. It was quiet then suddenly –“ She screamed when something large and metal landed right beside her, letting out an unhappy shout when she realized who it was. “ _Jesus!_ ”

The helm covering Tony’s face lifted, his whiskey-colored gaze lacking its normal flippancy, seriousness in every line. He cast a concerned glance around the street, quickly taking stock of the chaos before turning toward Bucky. “I was uptown and heard the blasts. What the hell happened to my tower?”

“Sitrep?” Steve asked as he ran up to the trio, his expression one of strength and focus. Seeing the Iron Man armor land had been a relief, as he knew Natasha and Clint were somewhere upstate. Having extra hands would be good, especially since it was the tower. Tony took pride in his work, and if anyone was able to work out a solution, it’d be him. 

“Point of origin in the lower levels,” Bucky explained to the other men, parroting the information the guard had given him. “Not everyone accounted for, no obvious target.”

“No obvious target?” Tony asked with a look of disbelief, his gauntlet pointing to the Tower. “That’s the target! Obviously!”

Ignoring the tone in Tony’s voice, and watching Bucky swallow it for the moment, Steve turned to the guard. “How many injured?”

“Not sure,” Gladys said, dark eyes darting from person to person as the sound of sirens grew louder, her demeanor growing calmer and more certain by the minute, “it’s only been seconds but it feels like hours.”

Unsatisfied with the lack of certainty, Tony knocked his fingers against the side of his helmet, eyes squinting as he looked at the mangled metal of glass that used to be the bright atrium. “Friday?”

“ _She’s right, boss. The initial blast originated from sub-basement three._ ”

“Initial?” Steve asked.

“ _There have been several smaller explosions throughout the building. It appears they may be timed and detonated with some type of device_.”

Bucky shook his head, glancing up at the rest of the tower, wondering what else it was hiding inside its walls. “The building has bomb detectors in place. How could someone get past the sensors with something that should have triggered the alarm?”

“ _We do have detectors in the building_ ,” the A.I.’s voice announced from Tony’s helmet, “ _unfortunately, it appears I was locked out the system just before the blasts began._ ”

Tony glanced over at Steve, some thought occurring to him and forcing his lips apart. “Like the power outage we had a few months ago.”

“So the same person,” Steve suggested, watching Tony nod, his jaw ticking. “That was just the dry run. _This_ was their end game.”

“ _I wish I could confirm_ ,” Friday explained, “ _but I cannot give you any updated information_.”

Steve nodded, instincts taking over. He cast his gaze up and down the street, nostrils flaring slightly before he swung his attention back to the man in the suit. “Then we’re on our own. Tony?”

“I’ll get to the basement, make sure there’s no other surprises down there.” Tony’s visor snapped over his face and he left the three of them standing there, flying over everyone’s heads and disappearing into the carnage on the atrium, the shards of glass covering the ground glinting in the mid-morning sunshine.

“We’ve got to get people as far away as possible. If there are more blasts coming, we need to minimize the injuries.” Steve watched Bucky nod before the soldier ran toward the coffee shop and the mass of people still huddled inside for safety. A police officer’s car flew around the corner, the lights on the top flashing, the scream of his siren getting lost in the other sounds that choked the street. 

Though he wasn’t wearing his red, white, and blue uniform, the police officer ran up to Steve immediately, obviously recognizing him on sight. Steve started giving orders, hands pointing around the street. “We need a two block perimeter. Only first responders allowed through. Get the injured to the ambulances, everyone else gets evacuated. Call the bomb squad and keep them on standby. This might not be over.”

“What happened?” the officer asked, as more police appeared in the distance.

“Still unsure. Tell your guys to start pulling people behind the perimeter. Go!” Steve watched the officer as he ran toward a group of people who were just emerging from the coffee shop. Steve spotted Bucky at the rear, bending down to help someone on the ground.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” the elderly gentleman assured Bucky before devolving into a series of body-wracking coughs. The man’s gnarled hands gripped a dog’s leash like it was a lifeline, patting the animal’s flank in a calming gesture while he caught his breath. “Just a bump and a few scrapes. We’ll be fine, won’t we Mike?” At the question, the German Shepherd at his side barked once then brushed up against the man’s legs.

Movement caught his eye, and when a head of dark hair emerged from the rubble of the atrium, Bucky felt his heart skip a beat, stomach bottoming out as he looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Darcy trailing behind the astrophysicist, but finding no one. Jane’s eyes widened when she spotted Bucky, feet carrying her to him as fast as she could manage. Her face sported a few fresh cuts and scrapes, but other than that, it appeared she’d escaped serious injury.

“ _Darcy!_ ”

Bucky’s heart dropped again at the panic in Jane’s eyes. “What?”

Jane tripped over a piece of concrete but Bucky caught her just in time, saving her from falling. It didn’t appear that Jane even realized, hands reaching out to grip Bucky’s arms. ”She’s in there! Darcy’s still inside! She ran back upstairs for something, then everything...” The fear and dread in Jane’s eyes was overwhelming. 

Bucky looked over his shoulder to see Steve running towards them. His steps slowed when he recognized Jane, blue eyes looking over her head just like Bucky had, looking for Darcy. “Darcy’s still in there,” Bucky said, unsurprised when what color was left in Steve’s cheeks drained. “She was in the elevator.”

“The second blast sounded like it came from one of the elevator shafts,” Gladys said as she ran up to the trio, grief stricken and pale.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Jane exclaimed, hand raising to cover her mouth, eyes wide and fearful, filling quickly with tears and terror.

“You can’t go back inside,” Gladys said with a shake of her head, “there could be more bombs!”

“That’s _why_ we have to go in.” It was hard for Steve to breathe around the worry in his chest, and the look on Bucky’s face – fear, and worry, and panic, and a million other emotions they didn’t have the time to unpack – sped his heart. He felt the same crush of feelings rolling in his stomach, fear and uncertainty filling his veins.

“If you’re going to be idiots and go back inside, _take this_ ,” the guard said, though her tone made it clear that she thought they were only putting themselves in further danger. She held out a walkie-talkie to Steve, who took it and clipped it to his belt. “You go get her. We’ve got your orders.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate before he began running, not needing to see to know that Steve was right on his heels. The ground was littered with glass and bent metal, what was left of the dazzling atrium. If this had taken place on a weekday morning the horror could have been much, _much_ worse. That small silver lining meant nothing to Bucky, though, not when he didn’t know if Darcy had been caught in the blast. He wanted to believe she was perfectly safe on the upper floors, but part of him knew _exactly_ what hope could do to a drowning man, and he didn’t give himself the satisfaction of hope.

Eyes lingering on a tattered red, white, and blue flag for the briefest of seconds, Steve ducked his head when there was another large rumble from somewhere below their feet, a pane of glass that’d been spared in the initial blast shattering as they passed. It didn’t take them long to get to the only elevator that serviced the upper ‘Avengers-level’ floors, and they worked together to pull the metal doors apart.

Peering into the dark elevator shaft, a tiny glimmer of hope ignited in Bucky’s chest when it became clear that the car was not a crumpled heap of metal and mechanics at the bottom floor. As far as he could tell, it appeared the car was still somewhere above them, hopefully with Darcy safe and sound inside. There was no way to tell how far up the elevator was, but that didn’t matter in the slightest to Bucky. “We’ve got to climb,” he said with a shake of his head, looking over at Steve and watching the blond peer up.

“And if it falls while we’re climbing?” 

“We don’t have another choice. She’s up there. _Steve_.”

Steve heard the barely-veiled desperation in Bucky’s voice, and he reached out to squeeze Bucky’s arm. “I know. Let’s go get her.”

“ _There is… a house… in New Orleans…_ ”

Darcy’s voice shook, and when the elevator shifted the slightest bit, the words of the song she’d been singing under her breath stopped completely. In the dark, crimson-stained elevator, Darcy still clutched at the railing, cheek pressed against the cool metal as she tried to stay calm. She’d attempted to get Tony’s A.I. to respond, but had heard nothing. Her phone had no signal at all, the wi-fi was down, and whenever she shifted, she could hear the giant metal cables above her rubbing together and creaking ominously.

She was terrified. Darcy was choking on the bitter taste of her fear, thick enough to gag. She’d never had a problem with heights before, but then again, she’d never been stuck inside an elevator sixty-plus floors up with no idea how to save herself. In an effort to keep from drowning in existential dread, she did her best to stay calm. Someone would come find her eventually, right? She just had to wait. She relied on memories of her mother, imagining what words Abigail Lewis would have for her daughter in the situation.

_Darcy watched her mother at the sink, the older woman singing along to the music from the stereo as she washed dishes in the sunny yellow kitchen of her childhood home. Hazel eyes memorized the way her mother’s dark hair slid across her shoulders, comforted by just seeing the locks, knowing they smelled like apples and honey._

_“Jane brought Thor home to her parents,” Darcy hummed, watching her mother glance in her direction with an eyebrow raised. “Pretty big move, if you ask me.”_

_“He must mean a great deal to her if she was willing to subject him to Brad and Karen.”_

_Darcy nodded, leaning heavily on the table, trying to let the sunshine from the window warm her cold skin, wanting to lose herself in the inbetween place she’d found. “I wish you could have met her. She’s like you, but pocket-sized._ So _smart. And driven. Some of the things that come out of her mouth…”_

Heart hammering in her chest, Darcy’s jaw clenched when the elevator car shuddered, a hum of fear vibrating in her chest and nearly taking her out of the small, self-created respite she’d found.

_”It’s okay, Darcy. Just stay here with me. I’m always here, at the edges of sleep and the cracks in time.”_

_When Darcy blinked her eyes open, she was able to trace the calm lines of his mother’s face, so close and within reach. She felt the ghost of her mother’s hands on her skin, squeezing reassuringly. “I know.”_

_“Oh, honey,” Abigail said with a sigh, reaching up to sweep a lock of hair behind Darcy’s ear. “I wish I could tell you everything’s going to be alright.”_

_“But you’d never lie to me,” Darcy said, bottom lip trembling. “Even when I’d really, **really** like you to.”_

_“Then I’ll tell you something absolutely true: you were the very best thing that ever happened to me, Stardust. I need you to know that.”_

_“I do,” Darcy said, leaning her cheek into her mother’s hand. Feeling fear thump in her chest and terror steal her voice, it took everything she had to hold on to the calm interior world she’d built herself. It was just a distraction, and on a base level she knew it was just chemicals in her brain recreating somewhere safe in an effort to keep the despair from overwhelming her, but at the moment it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. “I miss you,” she breathed, blinking at her mother’s soft smile._

_“And you’ll miss me for many years to come, Darcy-dear, because this is not your end. Us Lewis women are made from strong stock, with fire in our veins, you hear me?”_

_“I hear you, Mama.”_

_“Good.”_

Wrenched from her mental refuge when the elevator shaft around her trembled, Darcy was thrown back into the blood-colored interior, screaming as the car began to fall. The descent stopped abruptly after twenty feet, depositing her on the floor in a crumpled, painful heap. Groaning as she rolled onto her back, clutching at her ribs as she struggled to take in a full breath, Darcy glared up at the elevator’s ceiling. “Come on, man, I thought we were friends,” she said accusingly at the inanimate object.

Nose scrunching when she heard a sound, Darcy took in a deep breath - or as deep as she could take without devolving into tears - and went silent, waiting for the sound to repeat. She’d just given up on hearing it again when it traveled up the elevator shaft and to her ears.

“ _....arceee...._ ”

She wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she climbed warily to her knees, pressing an ear to the wall and holding her breath again.

“ _Daarrrrrrcccyyy!_ ”

“Bucky?” Darcy’s eyes widened, certain that she recognized his voice, however faint. “ _Bucky!_ ”

Darcy’s panicked, fearful shout carried down the shaft. Steve and Bucky shared a look before they picked up speed. “ _Darcy! Hang on!_ ” Steve yelled, tracing Bucky’s trail as they climbed, being careful not to pull on anything connected to the precariously hanging elevator.

“ _Steve!_ ” Relief didn’t begin to cover the emotions turning over in Darcy’s head, and she somehow made it to her feet, though her knees threatened to give out at any second. She must have done something to her ankle in one of the falls, because the joint nearly blinded her with pain before she could breathe past it. “ _Here!_ ” she said as she carefully hit the elevator’s walls with her hands, “ _Here! I’m in here!_ ”

It became clear as they climbed that there would be no way for them to reach the elevator from below. There wasn’t enough space on either side of the car for them to fit through. The brakes seemed to be holding it in place for the moment, but there was no telling how long that would last. “We can’t get to her from here,” Steve said with a shake of his head, glancing up and down the shaft for an alternate route. 

“We’ve got to get to her from above.” Eyes widening, Bucky pointed to his right, and the men were able to wrench open the elevator doors on the level below. The floor was dark, but intact, and Bucky could spot a door marked ‘stairs’ at the end of the hallway.

Panic choked Darcy when she heard the men retreating. “ _Don’t leave me_ ,” she cried, the first tear rolling down her cheek.

“We’re not leaving you, Darcy,” Bucky said, pressing a hand to the bottom of the elevator, as if his voice alone could erase the fear from hers. “We’re coming to get you!”

“Hurry,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to the wall, more tears flowing as she breathed and attempted to stay calm. “Please, _please_ hurry...”

It only took them moments to climb the stairs to the floor above where the elevator was stuck, but to Bucky, it felt like a lifetime. There was no telling how long Darcy would be safe, and he was nearly hysterical by the time they pried open the doors to the shaft so they could get a better angle.

There was only one cable holding the elevator in place, the remnants of the snapped ones swaying ominously above their heads. Normally, there were brakes in place on either side of the car, but one was obviously broken, sending sparks and embers down the shaft. When Bucky moved to lower himself, Steve stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You see that?”

Bucky glared at Steve, desperate to get to Darcy and irrationally angry that his best friend was distracting him, before he followed Steve’s line of sight. There, blinking softly and looking completely out of place, was a small device sitting on top of the elevator. “Someone planned this,” Bucky said, his voice thick with barely contained rage, “they were coming after one of _us_.”

Steve wanted to argue that they couldn’t be sure, but he stopped when he realized he agreed; this had been orchestrated, and the targets seemed to be on the upper levels of the tower. Pushing aside the guilt that they might have been the cause of Darcy being in danger, Steve worked out a plan of attack. “We’ve gotta be careful. Any wrong move -”

“I know.” Bucky grabbed the walkie talkie from Steve’s belt, pressing the button on the side. “Gladys? Gladys, do you copy?” He’d nearly given up hope, then he heard a burst of static and the guard’s voice grumbled.

“ _I’m here._ ”

“Do we know if the floors are clear?”

Again, there was a pause before he heard the guard’s voice. “ _Mr. Stark hasn’t returned from the basement, but everyone else is clear._ ”

Bucky pulled his thumb from the radio, grey eyes sliding to Steve’s. “We have to get her out before the brakes fail or the elevator explodes.”

“ _Or both!_ ” Darcy yelled toward the ceiling, doing her best to stay as still as possible. “ _Preferably both!_ ”

Very, very carefully, Bucky made his way down the shaft, avoiding putting any additional weight on the elevator car. When he’d lowered himself near enough, he pulled open the hatch on the roof, eyes landing on the terrified woman inside. Just putting his eyes on her made his chest fill with happiness that they’d gotten to her in time. Bucky gave her a quick grin. “See what happens when I’m not beside you?” 

Panicked disbelief crossed Darcy’s face. “Seriously? You’re _seriously_ going to say that to me right now? _Are you kidding me?!_ ” Her words didn’t seem to phase him, and she watched as he wrapped his fingers around a piece of metal not connected to the elevator and then reached his other down toward her.

Darcy’s fingertips brushed against Bucky’s palm seconds before the elevator dropped another five feet, sending her to the floor and leaving Bucky scrambling for a safe anchor. With a meaty _**CRACK!**_ , the cable holding the elevator snapped. Steve grabbed the steel cable with one hand and the top of the elevator with his other, teeth clenching as he held as tight as he could. “You get her! I’ve got this!”

“ _ **Are you crazy?!**_ ” Darcy screamed at them, watching Steve’s face take on a singular motivation as he kept the elevator from plummeting with sheer muscle and strength.

“He bicep curled a helicopter, he can handle it,” Bucky assured her, laying himself on top of the elevator and reaching for her again. “Come on!”

“What am I supposed to do? _Jump?!_ ” Darcy asked, voice trembling with fear.

“Darcy! We’ve got to go now!”

Trying to gather whatever courage she still carried, Darcy cast a glance around the interior of the elevator car, not sure she had enough vertical clearance to do what needed to be done. “Oh god,” she breathed, shaking her head, “oh god, don’t drop me, please, please don’t drop me.”

“I’m not going to drop you,” Bucky said, fingers splaying at her, keeping his voice light for her sake, “you can do this!”

“ _I can do this_ ,” Darcy repeated under her breath, bending at the knees, preparing to launch herself upward. “ _I can do this, I can do this, I can do this…_ ” Seconds before she was about to jump, she felt another rough shudder as _something_ below them exploded, the shockwave traveling up the elevator shaft and finally destroying the only brake holding the elevator up. She felt the same drop in her stomach that one experienced on a roller coaster, except this wasn’t at an amusement park, and she _definitely_ hadn’t paid admission for the ride. 

There was a single moment, one solitary second, that the three of them moved together. 

_... Darcy reached her arm above her head and shut her eyes tight ..._

_… Bucky stretched his arm to the farthest of his ability and caught Darcy’s hand ..._

_… Steve let go of the elevator ..._

Though she knew she was screaming, Darcy heard nothing but the deafening roar of the elevator as it dropped in free fall. Her feet were dangling below her, icy fear at the sheer height of the shaft stealing her breath. She tore her eyes away so she could look upward; like some fucked up game of ‘Monkeys in a Barrel,’ she was hanging from Bucky’s hand, who was in turn hanging from Steve’s. She barely had a second to take a breath before she was being thrown upward, hands and feet cartwheeling as she flew through the open elevator doors ten feet above her.

Darcy landed hard on the tile floor, coughing heavily. She sat up, ignoring the pain in her chest, eyes impossibly wide. “ _ **Bucky! Steve!**_ ” The men appeared an instant later, escaping the elevator shaft with only seconds to spare. She opened her mouth to speak but was silenced when their bodies pressed over hers, covering her as another explosion - this one from the bomb that’d been on top of the elevator car detonating - and a jet of fire and flame shot up the shaft like a bullet in a gun. 

They laid there like that for several quiet, tense moments, before everything seemed to go silent. It was eerie, really, hearing so many deafening roars in such a small amount of time then _nothing_ , and for the briefest of instances, Darcy wondered if the blast had stolen her hearing completely. She felt the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears, but as they adjusted, she was able to hear the heavy breathing from the three of them.

Darcy lifted her head and took Bucky’s face in her hands, pressing her lips to his forehead and then his cheeks, before grabbing Steve and doing the same to him. Their wide eyed looks of shock would have been comical if it were any other situation. Then, before she could stop herself, her palm followed where her lips had been and found both of their cheeks, the solid _slap_ of her hand cracking up and down the hallway. “You are both fucking mental, you know that?!? Are you trying to get yourselves killed!?”

Bucky rubbed his cheek with his hand, still able to feel her lips against his skin. “That’s a hell of a way to thank someone for saving your life,” he groused, lips slanting when she pressed a soft hand to where she’d slapped, eyes softening, succeeding in erasing the sting.

“ _Oh my god!_ ” Darcy said when the thought occurred to her, grabbing at Steve’s bicep and squeezing. “Jane! Is Jane okay? Did you see her? Is she safe?”

“She’s okay,” Steve assured her, blue eyes hemorrhaging the mission and being replaced with warm gratefulness that they’d got to Darcy in time. “Just some scrapes and bruises. Are _you_ okay?”

Darcy shook her head, the fear and adrenaline still flooding her system, eyes filling with tears. “I was so scared,” she breathed, voice nothing more than a whisper, not wanting to give weight to the terror she’d felt in that small space. “Then I heard you calling my name and…”

“We weren’t going to let anything hurt you,” Bucky said, reaching out to push a lock of hair behind her ear, wishing he could have saved her from what she’d just experienced. He knew there’d be _days_ worth of review, trying to figure out what had gone wrong and who’d managed to get through Stark’s systems, but at the moment, he just wanted to stay there, certain that Darcy was safe.

Darcy jumped and gasped when a bit of static sounded nearby, watching as Bucky pulled the radio from his belt. He pressed his thumb to the button. “Please repeat.”

“ _Is Ms. Lewis safe? Dr. Foster is worried._ ” Gladys went quiet, but Darcy could make out the panicked, high-pitched voice of her best friend in the background.

“She’s safe,” Bucky said into the radio, smiling down at Darcy, relief bare in his voice, “and as feisty as always.”

“You’re darn tootin’,” Darcy said with conviction, grinning when Steve shook his head and finally moved from where he’d been shielding her body.

“ _That’s good.” **Static** “ _Dr. Banner has arrived on scene. He wants you three to meet him in the infirmary.__ ”

Darcy raised an eyebrow and reached out, pulling Bucky’s hands toward her so she could press the button on the radio. “Even me?”

“ _Yes. All three of you._ ”

“Copy,” Bucky said, reclipping the radio to his belt. He followed Steve and rolled away so Darcy could sit up. When she winced and clutched at her ribs, he reached out and held his palm over hers, her hazel eyes blinking at him through pain. “You get hurt?”

“Gravity’s a bitch,” she said through her teeth, attempting to put on a brave face. She was safe, after all, and that’s all that mattered. “Got slammed against the floor a couple times. I’m sore, but it’s okay.”

“Maybe getting you to the infirmary is a good thing,” Steve said, holding out a hand when he rose to his feet and watching Bucky do the same.

Blinking up at the two men - sweat turning the shirts around their necks darker, dust and debris spotting their clothes, but somehow still able to smile down at her - Darcy felt a tsunami of emotion in her chest. This wasn’t the first time her life had hung in the balance (though this time it’d been a little _too_ literal), but every time just reiterated the idea that she was running with people who saw this type of thing on the regular. 

As she’d been in that elevator car, trying to stay calm, imagining her mom’s soft voice and words of advice, she’d been waiting. She thought she’d been waiting to die, _hoping she wouldn’t_ , but waiting nonetheless. And then these two men, who she’d become so close to, who she cared for in a multitude of ways, who _never_ made her feel like she didn’t belong in the tower surrounded by super heroes and super soldiers… they’d saved her. 

Darcy took both of their hands and let them pull her to her feet, but held tight when they tried to pull back. “You two just saved my life.” When Bucky and Steve just smiled at her, she shook her head. “I know saving people is kinda your job, but you saved me, and I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’ve done it now. Prepare to be drowning in baked goods for the rest of your lives.”

“We weren’t going to let anything happen to you,” Bucky said again, squeezing her hand.

“Darn tooting,” Steve said, echoing her words from earlier and earning a beaming smile that was bright enough to warm his cheeks.

Still feeling a cacophony of emotions swirling in her head, Darcy took a step forward, grimacing when she put weight on her left ankle. The men were at her sides in an instant, arms curling around her waist and lifting her enough that her toes barely touched the ground. She raised her arms and stretched them across their shoulders, _just this once_ allowing them to help her without feeling bad that she needed help in the first place. It’d been quite the red letter day, and she was looking forward to some calm. “Well, gents, what do you think? Should we use the elevator?”

Their surprised laughter made the smile on her face grow.

The people gathered in the small medical room were the end-all be-all of the Avengers world. Darcy’d already met all of them, except for a man she _knew_ was Nick Fury, and a tall blond woman that she’d never seen before. The second Bucky and Steve had helped Darcy into the room, Jane made a beeline to her, throwing her arms around her best friend.

“Hey, hey,” Darcy hummed, gritting her teeth through the pain in her ribs, but hugging Jane as tightly as she could. “I’m okay.”

Pulling back, Jane wiped at the tears that had run down her face, mixing with the dirt and causing tracks down her skin. “I was so worried. I’d just gotten off the elevator and was headed to the cafe when the first blast happened. It felt like the floor rippled, then I was flying.”

“Are you okay?” Darcy cupped Jane’s cheek, turning her head from one side to the other and inspecting the cuts the astrophysicist was sporting.

“Just a few scrapes.”

“Good. Then I guess I’d give this a six.”

“What’s a six?”

Relief that Jane was safe had taken Darcy’s focus, but she was pulled back into the room at Steve’s question. “Oh, we have a ranking system after near-death experiences. New Mexico was a five, London was a seven. This was worse than New Mexico, and better than London. So, because of math, this was a six.”

“And what goes into this ranking system?”

Darcy’s gaze swung toward the man with an eye patch, blinking as he gave her a considering look. “Well, in New Mexico we had the big robot death ray, which was personally dangerous, but globally wasn’t so bad. Plus we had Thor, the Warriors Three, and Sif, so lots of help. London was less help, but a lot more world-endy. _This_ wasn’t going to end the world, but I was in a lot of personal danger, however, I had these two looking out for me,” she said, a thumb jutting over her shoulder at Steve and Bucky, “so not as bad as London.”

“I see,” Fury hummed, sitting back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest as he went quiet.

The group looked up when Bruce entered the room then pulled the door shut behind him, leaning back against it as he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Darcy let Jane help her across the room, taking a seat next to the astrophysicist and feeling Steve and Bucky take up the space at their backs.

“What do we know?” Steve asked, focus on the people gathered in the room. He’d only spent a few moments on the ground floor, but the destruction had been pretty extensive. He could only assume that Sharon was there because her bosses were taking an interest in the event. 

“Upwards of one hundred people injured,” Natasha offered. “Thankfully no deaths. If it hadn’t been the weekend, we’d be looking at a very different story.”

“The first blast happened in sub-basement number three. It was a timed device, exploding via a cellphone. Pretty rudimentary, old school design.” As he explained, Bruce replaced the glasses on his face. “They took the system down, delivered the payload, then got out. Detonated when they were out of the building.”

“But they were inside at some point,” Steve said, jaw ticking as he remembered coming across that blinking light on top of the elevator. “There was another bomb on top of the only elevator that leads to the higher levels.”

“They were coming after one of us,” Bucky agreed, words more an angry growl than anything else.

“No,” Happy said, piping up from where he’d been sitting, a scowl on his face and arms crossed over his chest. “They were coming after _Tony_.”

“How do you -”

“The initial blast was just to draw Tony in. They knew he’d go down to check it out. The second blast was for him. The bomb on the elevator was probably just a back up.”

The room went quiet, digesting the new information. “Is he okay?” Darcy asked when the silence had stretched on for longer than she could take, squeezing Jane’s hand when her best friend grabbed it.

Another sigh lifted and dropped Bruce’s shoulders. “Because of the medical procedures he’s done, and the ones that were done _to_ him... it’s up in the air.”

“His kidneys were badly damaged. At this point, he needs a new one, or he won’t make it,” Sharon explained.

“So cook him up a new one,” Clint suggested, gaze swinging toward Bruce. “You guys can do that, right?”

Bruce shook his head. “After all the nanites and things he’s got in his system, putting in anything but a blood-matched organ will fail. He’s out of options.”

“So what are you saying?” 

“He’s _saying_ ,” Fury answered Steve, watching the soldier’s blue eyes swing his way, “that unless we get a new kidney from someone who’s related to Tony by blood? Let’s just say that the outlook is grim.”

“But Tony doesn’t have any family,” Steve said, gaze boring into Fury’s, a frown on his face. There was something in the other man’s eye, something that made Steve doubt that him being here wasn’t some kind of clue to the seriousness of Tony’s injuries. 

“Actually,” Sharon said, taking a step forward and earning the eyes in the room, “he _does_.”

Most of the faces in the room took on expressions of surprise. Well, everyone’s except for Nick Fury’s, which only made Steve frown harder. When everyone followed Sharon’s line of sight, they landed on the women in the chairs. Darcy turned wide eyes toward the woman on her left. “ _Oh my god_ , Jane, you’re related to Tony Stark!”

Sharon cleared her throat, Darcy’s wide-eyed hazel gaze swinging back to her. “I didn’t mean Dr. Foster.”

The laughter that bubbled up from Darcy’s chest was high pitched, and she felt Jane’s hand go rigid in hers. When no one else laughed, and when the woman’s expression didn’t change, reality crashed down on her like a dangling elevator. “ _ **WHAT?!**_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When was the last time you did something just for you?  
> Painted your nails a bright color to make you smile?  
> Saw a movie by yourself and didn't feel lonely?  
> Ate cake without worrying about the calories?  
> After fighting for so long, it's hard to pause and take stock, but you _deserve_ it!  
> So sing that song at the top of your lungs with no shame.  
> Window stop at the mall just for fun.  
> Do something for yourself, without feeling guilty.  
> This life is too short for regrets.  
> Be your own cheerleader!  
> <3<3<3


	32. Force Of Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the Tower Attack: Darcy deals with conflicting emotions, Bucky comes to a realization, and Steve decides he needs to be strong enough for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Can you smell it? It's Autumn!  
> And tomorrow's October, so: Happy Early Halloween Month!  
> I'm so ready for cool air, rustling leaves, and oversized sweaters!  
> Pumpkins, pumpkins, everywhere!  
> We've got an emotional heavy chapter here, so forewarning: tissues may be needed!  
> <3  
>   
> 

_I don't know why but my hands are shaking_  
_I can see you coming and I stand here waiting_  
_Yeah I get tongue tied in the conversation_  
_It's an F'd up, bad, sick situation_  
_I tried to tie my heart down, board up all the windows_  
_Oh but it's too late now_  
_I let you get too close_  
_I know I should take cover, hide inside these four walls_  
_But baby I surrender, it all_  
_'Cause you're a force of nature_  
_Look at what you've done_  
_I can taste the danger, but I don't wanna run_  
_So pull me to the ground and I won't put up a fight_  
_I'm a caution taker, but baby you're a force of nature_  
_Baby, you're a force of nature_  


**Force of Nature - Bea Miller**

_May 2016_

“Take all the time you need, Ms. Carter.”

Sharon nodded at the man in his neatly pressed suit before turning her attention back to the box sitting on the table in front of her. She closed her eyes tightly, letting herself feel the roll of emotion in her stomach, doing her best to keep the tears at bay. No amount of tears would bring Aunt Peggy back, and her duties as Peg’s power of attorney were the least she could do for the woman who’d taught her so much.

Pulling the box toward her, Sharon ran her fingertips over the numbers ‘616’ on the top, taking in a breath and holding it before she flipped the box open and peered at the documents inside. Eyebrows knitting together, she tried to make heads and tails of them; several appeared to be statements of a bank account - a _large_ bank account if the totals on the yellowing paper were any indication - and still more appeared to be handwritten letters. Sharon recognized her aunt’s neat script easily, but buried beneath the rest was an envelope with the name ‘Howard’ printed on the front in loopy circles.

Sharon wasn’t certain why, but _something_ made her pull the envelope free. With careful movements, she pulled the letter from inside. It took a second for her to understand that this wasn’t a letter from her aunt to Howard Stark, but from _someone else_ to Howard Stark. Someone Sharon didn’t know. Her eyes flicked from left to right, widening when she realized what information the letter held.

She read the letter twice, digesting the information that’d been contained within. Letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, Sharon laid the letter on the table, reaching inside to pull the rest of the box’s contents into the light. There, hidden underneath everything else, was a folded piece of parchment with her name scrawled across the front. She flattened the paper with her hands, carefully pressing at the folds, taking a second to gather her thoughts before she read what might have been her aunt’s last instructions.

‘ _Sharon, my love, I know I ask so much from you, and this request may be the hardest yet. For that I am truly sorry._

_Howard Stark was not an easy man to get along with, and as such, the circle of people he trusted grew smaller and smaller over time. When he and Maria were killed, the responsibility of his affairs were passed to me, much like mine have now passed to you. Since most of Howard’s assets were placed in a trust for Tony, the only real duties that needed to be taken care of were the settling of his affairs._

_This is not a euphemism._

_Over the years, Howard’s dalliances were well known, and the fallout tended to be brushed under the rug. Maria, bless her soul, knew that Stark was more than just a name, it was a legacy, and despite her own pain and hurt at Howard’s actions, she knew that Tony would suffer the most if Howard’s truth was discovered. So she stayed quiet, swallowing everything for the sake of her son._

_When Howard and Maria were killed, I took on the job of going through Howard’s office. I found an unopened letter shoved in the back of a drawer, forgotten by the man who had always been thinking eight steps ahead. If you haven’t read the letter already, I would do so now. I verified what it contains is truth, but the onus of that truth is understandably life-changing._

_The woman never asked for anything, for herself or the child, and I felt the least I could do was respect her wishes that her child’s true paternity never be revealed. Tragically, after losing the father she never knew in a car accident, the girl’s mother suffered the same fate when the girl was ten. Her aunt took over as her parent, and as of this letter, I am the only one that knows the truth._

_And now that truth is on your shoulders._

_I know my lucid moments are growing fewer and farther between. There are so many things that will be forgotten, and I’ve made as much peace with that as I’m able, but this knowledge cannot be forgotten. I did my best to keep track of the girl, but I worry this disease will steal me, bit by bit, until she, too, is lost to time._

_Sharon, you have always been a kindred spirit. I am sorry that you’ve inherited this mess, but you are the only person I would trust with something this important. The documents included with this letter are everything you’d ever need to prove the truth, should it ever be needed. From what I’ve seen, the girl is happy and wants for nothing. Perhaps this truth is one that should stay hidden, for the betterment of all involved._

_I’m so sorry, my little dove, that I may look at you and not know your face, but I know your heart. I know you’re strong, and honest, and I know you’ll do what’s best. You’ve made your aunt so proud and are so loved. Please never forget that._

_Your aunt,  
Peg_

_August, 2012_

Sharon sat back, breath passing her lips in a rush. She stared at her aunt’s letter, finger tracing over ‘Peg’, following the loops and lines with her nail as her mind turned over the information. This letter was before the worst of her aunt’s disease took her memories, before she stopped recognizing the faces of those closest to her. Sharon felt the sharp stab of loss all over again, folding the letter and putting in back in the envelope. She gathered the rest of the documents and put them in her bag, mind whirling at a steady pace. 

What was she supposed to do with this information? If Aunt Peg was right, that the girl’s mother didn’t want her true paternity to be known, was it her responsibility to go against the woman’s wishes? Peg had known for years but kept the truth hidden. Had that torch now passed to her? As the gravity set on her shoulders, Sharon stood, letting out a deep sigh before she left the empty box on the table.

“You’ve got to be wrong,” Darcy said, pacing the length of the little medical room while casting dubious glances at Sharon Carter.

“I’m not.”

Darcy stopped, arm gesturing wildly through the air. “I think I’d know if I was some long lost Stark! Seems like something that might have come up in conversation once or twice.”

Sharon’s voice was calm and warm as she spoke. “Your mother was Abigail Lewis. She worked at _Echo Labs_ in the late eighties to the mid nineties.”

“So?”

“Echo Labs was a subsidiary of _Stark Industries_. Abigail was the liaison between the two companies.”

“Again, and excuse me for repeating myself because I’ve had a pretty shitty day so far, but _so_?”

“My aunt became aware of your connection after Howard and Maria Stark were killed.” Sharon’s eyes remained on Darcy, though she saw Barnes go still in her peripheral vision. “Your mother told Peg that she didn’t want anyone to know your father was Howard Stark. She feared it would put you in danger.”

Though her steps had started again, Darcy was moving slower now, arms crossed over her chest, as if her stance alone could make the truth clearer. “It can’t... I mean, why wouldn’t she...”

Sharon gave her a soft smile. “I know it’s a lot to take at once. We can run a paternity test, but it’d just be a formality. Peg ran one when she first found out, just to be sure.”

Darcy came to a stop, letting out a trumpet of air. “Let me try to wrap my head around this, okay?” When Sharon nodded, she continued. “My mother, who was the _nicest_ and _sweetest_ woman in the entire world, had an _affair_ with a _married_ man, then decided to keep it all hushed up because she feared for my safety?” When the blonde nodded the affirmative, she started again. “And, on the same day when someone _legitimately_ tries to kill Tony Stark and a lot more people, thus _proving_ my mother’s worries were correct, you tell me that my new billionaire half-brother needs one of my kidneys or he’s going to die?” At Sharon’s nod, Darcy threw her hands into the air. “Okay. Great. Thanks for clearing that up.”

Steve had watched Darcy’s emotions vacillate as the information was thrown at her. It was clear she was struggling, and when the eyes in the room started to make her shoulders hunch, he stepped forward. “Can you give us the room?” 

Helpfully, no one argued, and he watched most of the people exit as Darcy took a heavy seat in a chair. Fury was the last one to leave the room, and he gave Steve a look of importance as he passed. When it was just Darcy, Jane, himself, and Bucky in the room, Steve crouched in front of Darcy, who’d covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. He reached out and squeezed her knee. “Hey, it’s okay to cry. It’s okay if you’re upset.”

Darcy sat back in the chair, hazel eyes shining, but not with _sad_ tears. She clapped a hand over her mouth, face contorting as she laughed silently, her entire body shaking. When she took in a deep breath, she shook her head, apologies in her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, “it’s not funny. This isn’t funny. It’s not funny, right?”

Jane took a step closer to her best friend, putting a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Darcy.”

“Jane,” Darcy said, turning her drowning eyes toward her best friend, “Howard Stark is my dad. _Howard fucking Stark!_ ”

“I know, honey.”

“It’s ridiculous!”

“I know.”

“Your mother never talked about your dad?” Steve asked. Darcy’d spoke in the past about her mom, and the fact that she hadn’t known her father, but looking back, Steve wasn’t sure if he’d missed something that might have made sense.

“Not really,” Darcy answered, her voice sounding more normal. Or as normal as it could be, given the circumstances. “She _definitely_ made it clear it wasn’t meant to be. And she _definitely_ never said it was Howard _fucking_ Stark!”

“If what that woman said is true,” Jane said, rubbing a hand up and down Darcy’s back, trying to comfort her, “then she did it for your own safety.”

When the first taste of betrayal coated her tongue, Darcy shook her head, expression losing some of its certainty. “... she said she’d never lie to me.” Her voice was small, trying to wrap her head around the fact that her mother had hidden such life-altering information from her.

“Did she?” Steve asked, watching Darcy’s eyes dart back to his. “ _Did_ she lie to you?”

Steve’s question quieted some of the turmoil still crashing in Darcy’s chest. She thought hard, trying to remember the times her mother had spoken about her father. Abigail had commented several times that Darcy reminded her of her father, stating that a look would cross her face when she concentrated, something so familiar and bittersweet that it’d take her breath away. But, more than _those_ memories were the memories of Darcy’s childhood. 

Though it hadn’t always been easy, she’d been _happy_. Thinking back on the years she’d spent with her mother, and then with her aunt, Darcy had never felt like she’d missed anything. She’d never felt slighted, or like she’d had less than other children. And now, thinking about all the hoopla that seemed to come with having the last name _Stark_ , she was able to understand why her mother hadn’t wanted that type of life for her only daughter.

“No,” Darcy said finally, letting out a breath and smiling at the man crouched before her. “No, I guess she didn’t lie to me.”

“She was worried about you,” Steve reasoned, still marveling at how quickly negativity could fade from Darcy’s eyes, replaced with quiet contentment. It was like a superpower, turning something dark into something light, and not for the first time, Steve wondered how she was able to do it.

Darcy shrugged a shoulder, smiling softly at Steve. “I just wish I would have known.”

“Would it have changed anything?”

Another shrug. “Probably not,” Darcy answered, “but I’ll never know now.”

Jane took a chair and pulled it closer, putting herself on Darcy’s level and grabbing her friend’s hand. “We can only work a problem if we know all the variables. So what are the variables here?”

The fact that Jane had fallen back on science to solve the issue made Darcy smile, something settling in her chest at her best friend’s consistency. “Apparently I’m a Stark.”

“Yeah.”

Darcy continued. “My new half-brother, who doesn’t know he even _has_ a half-sister, is somewhere on this floor, his life hanging in the balance.”

“Okay.”

“And the only person who can save his life is me.”

Though her explanation was a lot cleaner than the situation, Steve nodded. “That sounds like the jist of it.”

“Then I’ll ask again: how do we solve this problem?”

Darcy took a moment, heaving a large sigh before running a hand over her face. She had no idea how Tony would deal with the information – and she had to wonder if there’d been others throughout the years who had tried to make the same (though wrong) claim – but she supposed they didn’t have the chance to ask him what _he_ wanted, as he was fighting for his life somewhere down the hall.

She had a brother. _A brother_! She’d grown up her whole life wondering what it would have been like to have a sibling. Finding and befriending Jane had given her the best approximation possible, but finding out she had an _actual_ sibling was harder to accept. Even more hard to accept was the fact that someone had tried to kill him (as well as hundreds of others), and she felt a stab of guilt that he had to deal with any of it in the first place. Tony hadn’t always been the easiest person to like, but he didn’t deserve to be targeted like he’d been.

The biggest question became, then, whether she’d be able to live with herself if she _didn’t_ help him. And the more Darcy thought about it, the more she knew it’d be impossible. “I have to give him my kidney.”

“It’s a big surgery,” Jane said with a frown. “It’s fine if you’re worried.”

“I’m not worried.”

“You should be a _little_ worried.”

“I’m not worried,” Darcy said with a shake of her head, hazel eyes flashing, “I’m _pissed_. Someone attacked our home! They could have _killed_ someone! They _tried_ to kill someone. Fuck whoever did this! They’re not killing anyone, not when I can stop it.”

The smile that lifted Steve’s lips was warm. He’d known the decision Darcy had to face, but he’d known with absolute certainty that she’d make the choice to help Tony. She had one of the biggest hearts he’d ever known, and whether it was her half-brother or a complete stranger, Steve had known Darcy wouldn’t be able to sit idly by while someone suffered. He reached up, pushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “You’re very brave, you know that?”

Heart fluttering in her chest, Darcy couldn’t help the soft roll of her eyes. “Says the man who bicep curled a helicopter _and_ an elevator.” She watched pink flood his cheeks at her words, and part of Darcy felt like she wanted to stay in the room, soaking in the quiet until things become easier to understand. She didn’t have the luxury to sit, though, not when Tony’s life was on the line. 

Darcy didn’t know how he’d take the knowledge when he woke up, but she supposed the fact that he woke up _at all_ was what mattered. As she thought about what the rest of the day looked like, she felt her stomach flip, feeling the first flutters of nervousness. “It’s been a really weird day. Has it been really weird for you guys, too? I mean, I’m _used_ to weird, but this was a little much.”

Though it _was_ just a formality, the equipment they had on site made quick work, and before she knew it, a paternity test had verified that Darcy was, in fact, Howard Stark’s daughter and Tony’s sister. Luckily, she also shared the same blood type as her newly-discovered half-brother, which made everyone gathered breathe a sigh of relief; if this worked like they all hoped it would, then Tony might very well be awake and talking by tomorrow.

Part of Darcy was ecstatic that she would be able to help someone. Yes, the person she just so happened to be helping was _Tony Fucking Stark_ , but it wasn’t every day that Darcy felt like she was making a real difference in someone’s life. She wasn’t sure if there was a _better_ way to help someone than _literally_ giving them the gift of life. She’d always donated blood and made sure her license said ‘organ donor,’ but giving an organ while still alive was something else entirely.

Darcy tried to listen to the doctors explain the risks and how the procedure would go, she really did, but after everything that had happened, she found her focus a little spotty. It didn’t help that she was a notoriously bad patient; the only time she’d been put under general anesthesia was when she’d had her wisdom teeth taken out. Her aunt had stated she kept saying ‘the trees look really pretty’ over and over again, and had slept for fifteen straight hours afterward. Thinking about the upcoming procedure, she would readily admit she was nervous, but doing relatively alright, all things considered.

Jane squeezed Darcy’s hand, drawing her best friend’s eyes. “I promise I’ll be watching the whole time. I’ll make sure the doctors know to give you sorbet, _not_ ice cream, and I’ll let them know you hate jello.”

As Jane fretted at her side, the warm affection that filled Darcy’s chest was almost overwhelming. After all the excitement of the day, she could tell her friend was struggling to deal with everything, and she reached up to swipe at Jane’s cheeks and the tears that had appeared on them. “It’s going to be okay, Janey.”

“I know.”

“I love you, you giant nerd.”

“Love you, too,” Jane hummed, bending down so she could hug Darcy tightly.

When Jane took a step back from Darcy, her hazel eyes flicked up to see Bucky move forward. With everything she’d been dealing with over the past few hours, she hadn’t heard so much as a word from the man. When he got closer, her lips turned down in a frown. “Are you okay?”

Bucky’s eyebrows lifted toward his hairline, a surprised expression taking residence on his face. “You’re worried about _me_?”

The incredulous tone of his voice only made Darcy more concerned. “Always,” she answered, no doubt or feint in her voice.

“I’ll be fine, doll. You just worry about you, and I’ll worry about you, and so will Jane.”

“And me,” Steve said from behind Bucky’s shoulder.

“That’s a lot of worrying,” Darcy hummed, not sure what to make of the expression on Bucky’s face. There was something in the storm grey of his eyes, something she couldn’t place, and it made her stomach flip for different reasons.

“Then you should be all set.” Though her gaze didn’t waver, concern thick in the hazel, Bucky took another step closer, bending at the waist. He hovered inches above her, watching her lips part and her tongue swipe across them, the whole of his attention focused on her. He hesitated, something in his chest constricting when he pulled the scent of her shampoo into his lungs, drowning in apples and sunshine. Though his heart was hammering at her nearness, Bucky practiced constraint, pressing his lips to her forehead before pulling back.

When Bucky had grown closer, just a breath between their lips, Darcy’s eyes dilated, not certain what the soldier intended to do. His lips were warm against her skin, and she let out the shaky breath she’d been holding. When he straightened, grey eyes peering down at her, Darcy was able to recognize something in his gaze, something that made her think he’d wanted to do more than just kiss her forehead. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything, a lump in her throat stopping all words that might have slipped out.

Heart beating heavy behind his ribcage, unable to tear his eyes away from Bucky and Darcy being so close, Steve tried to ignore how his mouth went dry at just the sight of them. Feeling like he was on pins and needles, hair rising on his arms the longer he watched, he did his best to clear his face of the desire he could feel pooling in his belly. Bucky moved back from her bed, and Steve took the moment to press forward, leaning down so he could press his lips to her cheek. Darcy’s eyes were incredibly bright when he took a step back. “We’ll watch over you,” he breathed, watching her blink heavy eyes at him.

When several nurses and medical techs entered the room and begun preparing Darcy for the anesthesiologist, Steve watched as an IV was inserted into Darcy’s hand, her face wincing for the briefest of seconds before the eyes so full of sunshine began to dim, then closed all together. Jane kept her grip on Darcy’s hand, following as Darcy was wheeled out of the room. 

Gaze swinging toward the only other occupant left in the room, Steve took a step closer to Bucky and squeezed his best friend’s arm. “You okay?” Steve’s question drew Bucky’s gaze, and he watched the grey eyes he knew so well flatten.

“I killed him, Steve,” Bucky said, voice shaking. “I killed her father. She’ll never get to meet him. Because of me.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together in pain, lips parting as a breath passed them in a rush. Before he was given the chance to respond, Bucky had turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner.

_”Do you remember?_  
_The twenty-first night of September?_  
_Love was changing the minds of pretenders,_  
_While chasing the clouds away...”_  


_The grass under the bright blanket was soft beneath Darcy’s head. She blinked, tracing the path of a cloud as it lazily crossed the sky. Her mother’s voice floated on the breeze as it ruffled through their hair, the flowers her mother was tending to swaying from side to side. It was perfect weather, and though she felt deep contentment in her chest, Darcy knew something wasn’t right._

_“We never had a garden,” Darcy said as she shifted to a seated position, holding herself up with hands against the blanket, the knit afghan that’d lived on the back of their couch in their home. She watched her mother smile, patting the dirt on top of a tulip bulb she’d just pushed into the ground._

_“I know,” Abigail said, her voice light, “but I always planned on having one some day.”_

_“I remember,” Darcy hummed, running her tongue against the roof of her mouth, not sure why she felt like something wasn’t right with the taste, “you just never got the chance.”_

_“We’d have had flowers. Oh! And vegetables! Could you imagine? Pumpkins at Halloween to carve, sweet watermelons in the summer, maybe even sunflowers?” Abigail held a hand against her brow, squinting into the sunlight with a smile on her face. “This is nice. The sun is warm, the grass is green, the birds are singing...”_

_Darcy followed her mom’s line of sight, trying to place the soft beeping noise she could hear nearby. When she glanced back at her mother, Darcy traced the soft curve of Abigail’s lips, the dimple in her chin, and the chocolate irises that had always been lit with an inner glow. When Abigail turned back to the garden and the dirt, her daughter found herself frowning. She was trying to remember something, or trying to _forget_ something, and the scent of sterility was deep in her nostrils. Her mother laughed, glancing over her shoulder, and Darcy saw something in the eyes she’d known so well. “What did you want my life to be like?”_

_Pulling her hands from the dirt, and slipping out of her gardening gloves, Abigail turned toward Darcy with a smile. “What’s on your mind, Darcy-dear?”_

_“... why didn’t you tell me who my father was?”_

_Abigail’s eyes filled with empathy, and she shifted to a spot beside Darcy on the blanket, folding her legs under herself. “I wish I had better answers for you, but we both know I can’t explain.”_

_She’d known what the score was, but Darcy still felt a stab of disappointment at her mother’s words. “Were you ashamed of me?”_

_Reaching out to squeeze Darcy’s knee, Abigail shook her head, dark locks swept over her shoulder by another breeze. “Darcy Anne Lewis, I’ve never felt anything for you but love and pride.” Darcy’s face didn’t change from the softly broken expression, but Abigail continued. “The day you were born, the doctor placed you in my arms, and you blinked open those gorgeous hazel eyes, and you looked up at me with this expression on your face, like you knew exactly who I was. I knew, in that moment, that your eyes were the home I’d never known I always needed. As long as we had each other, I had everything.”_

_Though Darcy wanted to drown in her mother’s words, she hesitated. “There’s no way for me to have known that. You’re just a creation of my mind. My brain trying to work through the uncertainty and trauma of the day.”_

_Abigail’s smile was warm. “I see the Intro to Psychology class in college has done you some good.”_

_Rolling her eyes, Darcy looked down, itching at her skin, feeling tape pull at the hair on the back of her hand even though she couldn’t see it. She thought about what her mother had said, feeling the turmoil roll in her stomach. She’d gone through her life believing one thing, but it turned out she’d been wrong. She’d been reading a book, but not realized she’d been missing all the odd pages. Half of her life had been erased, painted over, pushed into the dark where it would have stayed. “I don’t know who this makes me now,” she said, eyes swinging up to her mother’s face, her expression falling._

_“You’re still the exact same person you were before, Stardust. That giant heart, bigger than any disappointments, always seeing the best in people. You’re still the happy baby who babbled at me, and the little girl with no fear who’d throw herself from the swingset and make my heart leap to my throat. The girl who forms a family with those closest to her. You’re **Darcy Lewis**. Above everything else, you’re that. And that’ll never change.”_

_As she watched her mother smile at her, bittersweet and apologetic, Darcy tracked a ripple across her vision. She felt a flutter in her chest, lifting a hand to press against her sternum. It felt like there was a weight, something pressing and holding her down. Feeling a rush of claustrophobia, she reached out for her mother’s hand. “Mama?”_

**”Heart rate is tachy, one-six-oh and climbing.”**

_“I’m right here, honey,” Abigail assured Darcy, “I’m always right here.”_

_Focusing on what she could, Darcy blinked eyes that were quickly filling with hot, itchy tears. “This is going to change everything.”_

_“I’m sorry I can’t be there to help you navigate these new waters, but I know you’ll be fine.”_

_“How?” Darcy asked, the question coming out of her mouth, disbelief thick. “How could you know that?”_

_“Because I know **you** , eyebrows to toenails, and you can handle this.”_

**”Blood pressure is dropping, oxygen is way below normal.”**

_Another flutter of something spread throughout Darcy’s chest and she felt like the air was knocked out of her lungs. She squeezed her mother’s hand, holding onto it like a lifeline. “I’m scared.”_

_“I know, baby.”_

_“I don’t feel sure about **anything** anymore,” Darcy said, holding back the sob that wanted to break free._

_“Then feel sure in yourself, and in my love for you. I might not be able to hold your hand when you wake up, but I’m here, in the stars and in the second right before you fall asleep. When you need me, just close your eyes, reach out your hand,” Abigail said, threading their fingers together, “and I’ll be there. I’m always with you. Remember my voice.” Lifting her hand, Abigail pressed it to Darcy’s chest, their hearts beating as one. “I’m only a dream away.”_

**”She’s going into shock. Charge the paddles!”**

_Darcy leaned into her mother’s warmth, taking in a deep lungful of the apple blossom scent of her mother’s shampoo, one of the most vivid things she remembered. She blinked at her mother as the first tear fell. “What’s going to be there when I open my eyes?”_

_“ **Everything** , Stardust. Everything is there, waiting for you. You’ve just got to open your eyes.”_

_She opened her mouth to respond, but Darcy felt like a bolt of lightning struck her down, the taste of copper and ozone in her mouth, thick enough that she couldn’t swallow. “Mama?”_

**”Hit her again!”**

_”Open your eyes, Darcy.”_

**”We’re losing her! Charge to three-hundred!”**

_”Open… your… eyes…”_

**Blackness.**

Jane sat heavily on the chair when her knees gave out, chest feeling numb as she put her face in her hands, tears rolling hot and heavy down her cheeks. Her cuticles were a ragged, bloody mess, and she felt emotionally drained, like the last hour had taken years off her life. Face hidden, she sobbed, repeating the same words over and over against her palms: _’Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.’_

Bucky’s fingers tightened on the back of the chair he was leaning heavily on, heartbeat still pounding in his ears, but slowing as it returned to normal. He could see Natasha looking at him in his peripheral vision, worry on her face, but he gave no indication or acknowledgement as he breathed past the panic he’d felt rising inside of him. When he could hear again, the steady beeping of Darcy’s heart monitor was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard.

While Bucky and Jane had taken steps away from the viewing window, Steve had stayed put, arms crossed over his chest, watching the doctors and nurses as the surgery finished. When they’d removed Darcy’s kidney, his eyes had followed the quick steps of the person that’d been designated to take the organ to the room next door so they could begin the second surgery, the one that would save Tony’s life.

Only once it’d been removed had Darcy’s vital signs started to fall, her body reacting badly to _something_. The viewing room had filled with Jane’s whispered prayers, the ‘ _no no no_ ’ falling from her lips as they’d brought out the defibrillators when Darcy’s heart rate had dropped then stopped altogether. After shocking her three times, it seemed everything had returned to normal. While the medical team had gone back to their normal routine, those watching the surgery had sagged in relief, breaths passing in rushes as it appeared the worst was over.

Bruce entered the room once Darcy had been wheeled away. Steve swung his gaze in the scientist’s direction, arms uncrossing and falling heavily to his sides. “What _happened_?”

“She had a reaction to the anesthesia,” Bruce said, running a tired hand over his face. “It’s a possibility for anyone who goes under. Cardiac depression and hemodynamic instability are risks.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Jane asked, looking up at Bruce with wet cheeks.

“They’re going to keep her here for a few extra days just to be sure, and her chest is going to feel like a horse kicked her, but she should recover just fine.” When Jane returned to her grateful mantra, Bruce shifted under the heaviness of Steve’s gaze. “She’s going to be okay, Steve.”

Steve nodded, letting out the breath he’d been holding, casting grateful eyes to the floor. Feeling his heartbeat return to normal, his eyes flicked back up to Bruce. “Tony?”

“They’re closing him up right now. Looks like everything went as well as we could have hoped.”

“Now what?” 

Bucky’s voice had been rough, and thick, and the eyes in the room swung toward him. Bruce cleared his throat. “They’ll both stay a few nights then get released. Tony’ll be on medication for the rest of his life, but Darcy’ll just need pain meds and antibiotics until she fully heals.”

“How long will that take?”

“Usually six weeks.”

“Can she work?” Jane’s face lost some of its color when the eyes in the room turned back to her. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. She’s a _horrible_ patient when she’s sick. She’s going to go crazy and try to push it. It’s what she does.”

“Then we set up a schedule,” Steve said, “make sure she’s not alone. Keep our eyes on her.”

“You can’t be with her twenty-four-seven, Steve,” Natasha hummed, expression unchanging when he looked her way. “I know you want to, but bad guys won’t care that your schedule is full.”

“Then I’ll do it.” Bucky kept his gaze pointed to the floor, though he could feel everyone’s eyes on him like a scratch between his shoulder blades. “I can’t go in the field with you guys, but I _can_ make sure she follows the doctor’s orders.”

“A lot of her work can be done from a bed, if it needs to be. I’d much rather have her forget about it all together until she’s healed, but I know her, and I _know_ it’ll never fly.” Jane opened her mouth to continue, but stopped when she heard her name being called from the other side of the door. 

“Jane?” Thor pushed into the room, gaze swinging at the faces until he spotted Jane, legs carrying him across the room so he could pull her into his arms. His arrival caused more tears, and as he rocked Jane from side to side, he looked over her head at Steve. “Darcy? How is she? Will she recover? Will she be okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a nod, watching as the obviously concerned Asgardian’s eyes softened with gratitude, hoping his words were accurate and not just colored by the hope he was clinging to. “She’s going to be fine.”

“Thank the Allfather,” Thor breathed, pressing his cheek to the top of Jane’s head and squeezing her tighter.

Natasha made her way quietly across the room, coming to stand beside Bucky, her face carefully veiled with a blank expression, though her eyes were thick with empathy. She reached out and placed a soft hand on Bucky’s arm, feeling him go stiff under her touch. “You okay?”

Bucky’s spine straightened at the question, a flash of anger lighting in his chest at the assumption that _anyone_ needed to worry about _him_ when Darcy and Stark were the ones who’d gotten hurt. He managed to release his grip from the chair, unsurprised to find his prosthetic had bent the metal and left behind an imprint of his fingers. “I’m fine,” he growled, feeling Natasha go stiff at his side, his voice like gravel and glass. 

“You’re _not_ fine,” Natasha argued, frown crinkling the skin between her eyes.

“Tasha.” When she turned toward him, Clint shook his head minutely, holding out a hand. She was reluctant to leave Bucky’s side, especially when she knew he wasn’t okay, but there was something in her lover’s gaze that made her pause. Finally, she left Bucky standing near his chair and retreated to the seat next to Clint, pulling her legs beneath her, green eyes scanning the faces in the room and noting everything.

As Jane and Thor spoke quietly in a corner, and Bruce had a whispered conversation with Natasha and Clint, Steve made his way to Bucky’s side, able to spot the tension in his best friend’s body; his shoulders were hunched toward his ears, his jaw clenching and unclenching with thinly veiled anxiety, and a bead of sweat trailed down the side of his neck. Steve said nothing as he came to stand beside Bucky, knowing that the other man was past the point of speaking, and not wanting to push him too hard on an already difficult day.

Beside the fact that Darcy had been hurt in an attack on their home, the knowledge that had come with Darcy’s parental surprise had cast a dark cloud above Bucky’s head. Steve knew how hard it’d been for Bucky to get past the knowledge that he’d murdered Tony’s parents while under the direction of Hydra. It’d been one of the hardest revelations from Bucky’s past, which had, ultimately, resulted in their being declared fugitives. _Now_ , though, Bucky was dealing with the same information, though in a much different way. Steve couldn’t imagine what the former soldier was feeling. “She’s going to be okay, Bucky.”

Bucky barely acknowledged Steve’s words. He’d heard Bruce’s explanation – that Darcy’d had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, but that she’d come out of the surgery without any lasting damage - but he couldn’t get the vision of her lying on that table, body jerking as they poured enough electricity to restart her heart. He thought he’d been scared before – about Steve, about Natasha, about a billion other things he couldn’t control – but the idea of losing Darcy had stuck in his throat and cut off his oxygen, blackness on the edge of his vision as his focus had narrowed to the woman who’d shown him nothing but kindness since the second she’d decided they needed to be friends.

Somewhere in the last few months, something inside of him had shifted toward something better, and Darcy was such a large part of that journey that it _terrified_ him. He was doing his best to straighten the scattered, broken shards that had been his life, fitting the sharpness back together in some fucked up form of stained glass, and he’d drawn strength to do that from the optimism Darcy seemed to exude from every pore of her being. She’d shown him that there was more out there, that he could be _healed_ , that something better could be on the horizon. He hadn’t needed to live in the shadows anymore, because she was bright enough to chase way any darkness he carried inside.

He knew it wasn’t healthy to put that much importance on a relationship, but Bucky wasn’t sure how to _not_. His entire life he’d chased after Steve, and though they’d had more than their fair share of heartache, they’d finally found their way back to each other. He wouldn’t let Steve go again, and though he’d told himself not to, he’d fallen for Darcy Lewis, as well.

Bucky’s jaw unclenched, and the air that’d been in his lungs huffed outward. He was in love with Darcy. Until that very moment, he’d tried to lie to himself, to say that he cared about her as something else, but it’d just been a way to avoid admitting what had already happened. He was _in love_ with Darcy Lewis, and she’d nearly died for sins that weren’t hers. He felt his stomach bottom out, his throat tighten, and when he reached out for Steve’s hand, it was in an effort to ground himself and keep from falling apart.

When things were back to normal (though, would they or _could_ they ever be normal again?), he’d make an extra appointment with Eric, needing the help of his therapist to work through all the revelations the attack had brought to the front. He wanted to be better, and putting so much of his mental health in someone outside himself was too risky, it offered too many ways to lose himself in the grief. He knew better than most that life was fleeting, and he could feel himself back-sliding, something he refused to do.

Steve looked over at Bucky when warm, metal fingers wrapped around his, gripping and squeezing him tight. The fact that Bucky had reached for him in the room was proof enough of his best friend’s state of mind, and he could see the inner struggle going on behind Bucky’s eyes. He felt a matching roll of emotion in his own chest, but he tightened his heart so he could be there for both Bucky _and_ Darcy. When she woke up, she was going to need help, despite her self-reliance and independence, and Steve was going to be there, right by her side. “We won’t leave her alone, Buck. We’ll make sure she’s okay.”

“I know,” Bucky breathed outward, storm grey eyes sliding to his left. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so much negativity in the world today.  
> In the news.  
> On the TV.  
> In the theaters.  
> It's so hard to see past the blackness, giving anything to see a pinprick of light.  
> But, even on the most moonless and darkest of nights, you carry that light inside of you.  
> Planets and galaxies of brightness, shining from between your ribs, pulsing along to the beat of your heart.  
> We're made a stardust, compressed down into bodies, and we hold immeasurable importance.  
> Even when you're at your lowest.  
> Even when you feel the water rising over your head.  
> Even when all hope is lost, that light is _eternal_.  
> Look inside. See what you need. Know your worth.


	33. Losing Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wakes up after his procedure and gets some surprising news, and he and Darcy have a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Fall is in the air and I am _here for it_!  
> Hopefully you all had a good first week of October!  
> A cold tried to lay me low this weekend, but I said NO!  
> (I mean, I slept most of the weekend, but that's neither here nor there...)  
> All our players are finally awake and we get to see them accept what's happened.  
> I hope all of you like it!  
> <3  
>   
> 

_You could be so happy, then it suddenly turns_  
_No one can explain it and you don't have the words_  
_I can see you're trying, I can see that it hurts_  


**Losing Me - Gabrielle Aplin**

“Steve?”

Turning away from the window, where his eyes had been focused on the horizon, Steve swung his gaze toward Sharon in the small, clean medical room. She wasn’t looking at him, though, but at the person lying in the hospital bed. He watched Tony’s eyes flutter then open completely, the engineer casting his tired, confused, and medicated gaze around the room. When Tony began to shift in the bed, Steve took a step closer. “It’s okay, don’t move too much. You don’t want to pull your stitches.”

“What happened? Where’s Pepper? Is everyone alright? What –“ Tony’s eyes became even more confused when they landed on the blonde CIA employee. “Sharon?”

“Hi, Tony.”

Her words did little to help east the uncertainty or alarm in the expression on his face, so Tony turned back to Steve. “Where’s Pepper? What’s going on?”

“Pepper’s on her way back from D.C. right now, she should be here in the next hour or so,” Steve said, taking a step closer to the bed. “Do you remember anything from before?”

Tony’s frown deepened. “I remember I was at a meeting, then there was an explosion. I came here, went into the basement...”

“Nothing else after that?”

“No,” Tony answered with a shake of his head. “Did anyone else get hurt?”

“A hundred people or so, but they’re all going to make it,” Steve answered. “Mostly superficial wounds, couple broken bones from falling debris.”

“Okay, but what _happened_?”

Letting out a sigh, Steve ran a hand through his hair. It would take a little bit to go through the footage, so right now all they had were assumptions and fear, which was something he didn’t want to lay on Tony when he was injured. “Looks like someone planted and detonated a bomb in the basement. We’re thinking the initial blast was just a precursor to the one that was meant for you.”

Tony blinked, eyes darting from side to side as he tried to make the glimpses of memories in his mind crystalize. “When I went down, there was structural damage, but... I could tell something was different. I wasn’t sure...”

“From what we can tell, the first blast was to pull you in, the second was –“

“- meant to kill me, yeah, I caught that part. Pretty sure that doesn’t really constitute the CIA sending someone to investigate,” Tony said his gaze flicking toward Sharon. “Thought their role was a little more clandestine than checking into bombings.”

When Steve glanced in her direction, Sharon took a step forward. “The CIA didn’t send me here. When I was finishing up Peg’s affairs a couple years ago, I discovered she had a lockbox no one else knew about. There was a letter inside, and the information had to do with you. I wasn’t sure whether to give it to you or not.”

“Then why are you?”

“... Steve told me you should get to decide what to do with the information in the letter.”

Tony turned a surprised expression in Steve’s direction. “Really? What an interesting change of pace.”

If it were any other situation, Steve would have given Tony a wry grin, but knowing what was about to get dropped on the engineer, he couldn’t find it in himself to smile. “I learned my lesson, Tony. The hard way.”

“Seems like we’re both pretty okay now.”

“Maybe you should read the letter before deciding,” Steve said, watching as Sharon pulled the slip of paper from her back pocket. She held it out to Tony, who took it with suspicion. After unfolding the letter, his eyes darted back and forth, expression flattening. It seemed the first time wasn’t good enough, and Steve watched the billionaire read it a second time. 

Finally, after another few moments of silence, Tony’s whiskey-brown gaze flicked up to Sharon. “Bullshit.”

As if she’d expected this kind of reaction, Sharon passed Tony another piece of paper. “We ran the tests, Tony. Dr. Banner confirmed it himself.”

After looking at the reports thoroughly, as if they were wrong, Tony let the papers flutter to his lap and shook his head. “Look, my father was a _deeply_ flawed man, but this is...”

“He never read the letter. He didn’t know.” 

Steve had read Peggy’s letter, over and over, eyes tracing the careful handwriting he remembered, imaging her voice and inflections, almost able to see her red lips forming the words. It had come to him as a shock, but he’d kept it together for Darcy’s sake. Now, he was trying to do the same for Tony. He’d say he couldn’t imagine getting information that was this life changing, but he _could_. He’d gone into the ice in one world and had woken up somewhere completely foreign. He’d thought Bucky had died in the fall from that train, but he hadn’t. He’d thought he was working for S.H.I.E.L.D., only to find out it’d been infiltrated and essentially taken over by Hydra. Steve had an entire life full of surprises, and he empathized with the man in the hospital bed.

Tony was quiet for a few seconds before looking back and forth between Steve and Sharon. “So you decided to share the letter. Why?”

“Your kidneys were badly damaged in the second blast. Dr. Banner said the only thing that could save you was a kidney from a blood relative.”

“And you just happened to have that information in your back pocket? Literally?”

“I already had an appointment with you set up for next week,” Sharon explained, “but when I heard you’d been hurt in the attack –“

His hand lifting in the air stopped the words from Sharon, and Tony ran a weary hand over his face “I’d have asked for a second opinion, but I guess the stranger’s kidney in my body cavity is proof enough.” When the room went quiet, Tony shifted in the bed, wincing at the pull on his skin. “So what does she want?”

A frown wrinkled Steve’s brow. “What?”

“Lewis,” Tony explained. “What does she _want_?”

“She doesn’t _want_ anything,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice even, but not happy with the look on Tony’s face and the assumption behind his question. “She knew she was the only person who could help you, so she did.”

“What is it? Money? An inheritance?”

“ _Jesus_ , Tony,” Steve said, tone thick with disappointment, as he uncrossed the arms over his chest, lips parting with the blow of Tony’s insinuation, “she saved your life, and she’s a few doors down recovering from a surgery she didn’t _have_ to agree to.”

There was no chagrin or guilt in Tony’s expression as it stayed steady on Steve. “Yeah, well, excuse me for using my _entire life history_ and assuming she wants something for what she did.”

“A brother,” Steve responded, his tone thick with exasperation, “maybe she just wants a brother.”

Sharon stepped forward when the bitter atmosphere in the room bit up and down her arms. “I get it, Tony. I heard enough stories about Howard growing up, but Steve is right. Lewis had absolutely no idea she was related to you. Her mother never told her who her father was, and it took her less than an hour to decide to change her entire life by helping save yours. Maybe she’s earned the benefit of the doubt.”

Letting out a sigh, Tony reached under his gown, running his fingers over the bandage and the wound that was below it. When it seemed like he’d come to some kind of decision, he glanced back up. “She really had no idea?”

“None. Peg was the only one. She set up a savings account for Darcy, but the money was never touched. I guess it’ll be up to Darcy what she wants to do with it,” Sharon answered.

Tony ran a hand over his face again before letting out a sigh and directing his dark eyes toward the other occupants of the room. “Let me lay this out, just so there’s no confusion. You’re telling me that Howard, who was never in running for father of year, had a child he never even knew existed, and through some stroke of fucking luck, not only did I hire her months ago, but she just so happens to be an exact blood match, and was the only one who could have saved my life?”

“Pretty much,” Steve said, doing his best not to let the blush of offense on Darcy’s behalf color his conversation. If it were any other situation, he might have found it amusing that Darcy had needed to do the exact same verbal backbend in order to wrap her head around the knowledge. Some thought crossed Tony’s face, like he’d just realized something, and Steve frowned. “What?”

“Strange told me that hiring Jane Foster was some kind of key to helping us in the future, remember? I’ve got to assume this is what he was talking about. He said it’d take all of us to fight and win. Can’t really fight if I’m dead, and if Lewis was the only one that could save me...” 

“Strange?” Sharon asked.

“Doctor Strange,” Tony said with a wave of his hand, “and it’s a very long story.” His explanation didn’t seem to satisfy Sharon, but she didn’t ask further questions, seemingly content to let Tony and Steve have their secrets. Tony let out another heavy sigh. “You said Lewis is still recovering. Why am I awake and she isn’t?”

“She had a reaction to the anesthesia. Her heart stopped after they removed the kidney, and they had to shock her,” Sharon said, watching Steve glance out the window, his jaw ticking at the memory.

“But she’s okay?”

“She will be,” Steve said, reassuring himself as much as he was Tony. Bucky had refused to leave her side, and Steve would have done the same if he hadn’t wanted to be there when Tony woke. The news he was getting from Sharon was shocking, and he hadn’t been sure how easily it’d be accepted.

“I want to be there when she wakes up,” Tony said, hands reaching out to smooth the wrinkles on the letter from Peggy. “Seems like we should have a chat.”

“You’ll have to fight Sergeant Barnes. He’s refused to leave her side since she came out of surgery,” Sharon said, watching some of the light in Tony’s eyes turn darker at the mention of the former soldier.

“I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement,” Tony hummed, looking to Steve and holding the other man’s gaze.

“Invoking family rights?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow at the engineer.

“If I have to.”

Steve wasn’t sure how easy it would be to pull Bucky away from Darcy’s side, but he had the feeling that if anyone would be able to do so, it’d be Tony. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted when the door to Tony’s room opened. He took a step back from the bed when Pepper’s heels carried her inside, her already pale cheeks turning even more ashen.

“Oh god, are you alright?”

“We both know I’ve had worse,” Tony said with a wry grin, accepting Pepper’s hug and pressing his lips to her cheek. “Hey,” he said when she squeezed a bit too hard, “watch it, I’ve got a literal foreign body inside of me.” When he looked back toward the door, an uncharacteristically stoic James Rhodes stood on the threshold. “What, she needed backup?”

“Figured you wouldn’t want to take any chances,” the colonel responded, giving Tony a nod. He turned toward Steve, giving him a questioning eyebrow before nodding again toward the door. “A word?”

“It was good seeing you, Tony,” Sharon said with a smile.

Nodding at Sharon, Tony turned his attention back to Pepper, their whispered conversation broken by Pepper’s tearful laughter. Steve pulled the door shut behind him, accepting Sharon’s kiss on the cheek before she made her way down the hallway. Letting out a sigh, he turned to Rhodey. “Thank you for getting her home so quickly.”

“Of course,” Rhodey said with a slight smile before crossing his arms over his chest. “Bruce said the girl’s been working here for six months?”

“She didn’t know that they were related,” Steve answered. “From Peggy’s letter, not even Howard knew.”

“... this is going to cause some issues.”

“What kind of issues?”

“How do you think the world is going to react when they find out Tony Stark has a long lost sibling? And do you really think the kind of person who can set off a bomb in a Stark property is _not_ going to come after her? This person could have killed a lot of people. It doesn’t seem like they’ll care that she didn’t _know_ she was a Stark, just that she shares his blood.”

Steve’s breath huffed out at Rhodey’s words. He’d been so wrapped up in worrying about Darcy and Tony that he hadn’t given much thought to what would happen when people _outside_ of the tower discovered the news. Someone had targeted Tony, and in order to get to him, Darcy could be caught in the crosshairs. The attacker didn’t seem to care much about hurting others or collateral damage, not if it meant hurting Tony in the end. “She’s going to need security.”

“We’ll do all we can to keep the news from breaking, but if it does?” Rhodey shook his head. “She saved Tony’s life, but now we have to worry about her safety, too.”

Nodding, Steve cast his eyes toward the floor. So many things had happened in the past few hours that it was hard to grasp it all, and he felt his head swimming with it. If _he_ was having trouble dealing with it all, he couldn’t imagine how Darcy would feel when she woke up and was told that she’d need security with her anytime she left the tower. She was so self-reliant and independent that he could only assume that she’d fight against it. He’d need to make her understand, but thinking of the task filled him with dread. “We’ll make it happen.”

“Good,” Rhodey said, his face losing some of its worries. “She’s going to need all the support she can get. And in better news, _you_ have _my_ support.”

Confusion crossed Steve’s face. “For what?”

“Tony told me what you want to do. Taking care of soldiers and first responders. It’s a good cause. I floated the idea to a few people I know and trust. They’re going to see what kind of governmental aid we can offer. Now that Ross and his flunkies are getting their comeuppance, I think things’ll go a lot smoother. There was a small, _very vocal_ contingent of people who would have caused some waves, but now that they’re out of the way, it looks like the obstacles are being removed.”

It shouldn’t have surprised Steve to discover there were more Hydra plants in the government than he’d thought, but part of him would never underestimate the darkness that people could hide while in public. Between Hydra, lobbyists, and the slime of some of those in power, he’d figured they’d have an uphill battle getting anyone to take the idea seriously. He’d known working beside Tony would give him a bit more leverage, but having the support of one of the highest ranking members of the military, who also happened to have a pretty flawless record of patriotism and honor, would go a long way. “Thank you, James. Truly.”

“Don’t thank me until we get it off the starting line,” Rhodey said with a smile. “I’m going to go back in and check on Tony. I’m sure he’s giving Pepper a hard time.”

“Which means he’s already feeling better.”

“The man has a singular talent for annoying everyone around him.”

Slowly, like she was moving through molasses, Darcy’s eyelids fluttered, a moan of pain rumbling through her _very sore_ chest. “ _Owwww fuck_ ,” she whispered, attempting to lift a hand to press against her sternum, but the IV still stuck in her hand pulled and tugged, earning another whimper of pain.

“You probably shouldn’t move too quickly. Between the stitches and the IV, you won’t get very far.”

Darcy recognized the voice, the sarcastic timbre one of the first things she’d pegged about Tony Stark when they’d met all those months ago at the library. She breathed past the pain and ache. “Why do I feel like I got hit by a truck?”

“Not a bad analogy,” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat in a wheelchair next to Darcy’s bed. “They tell me you had an issue with the anesthesia and had to have your heart shocked a few times to get it going again. Sounds familiar. At least you don’t have a chest full of shrapnel like I did.”

His explanation was verified by the ache over her ribs, sore enough that it was hard to breathe. Untangling herself from the IV so she could run a hand through her hair, Darcy’s eyes refocused on the man beside her bed, tongue darting out to lick her dry lips. Movement at the door drew her gaze, and she was able to make out the pressed black suit of Happy Hogan on the other side, arms crossed over his chest and doing his best to appear intimidating. “What’s with the guard?”

“A precaution.”

Shifting on the bed, not really able to find a _comfortable_ position, but at least moving so she could see Tony better, Darcy took a long moment to look at the older man. “You look better than the last time that I saw you.”

“Yeah, they said I shouldn’t have any issues with rejection.”

Darcy felt a modicum of relief at his words, sitting back on the bed with a wince. “That’s good.” No one had been completely sure if he’d still have issues once the doctors did their thing, but judging by the color in his cheeks and the brightness of his gaze, it appeared they’d gotten lucky. When he went quiet, something flashing in his eyes, she nearly squirmed under the weight of his gaze. “I assume you have questions.”

“Figured you’d have a few of your own,” Tony said, head cocking to the side as he blinked at her. “They say you didn’t know.”

Darcy shook her head, glad she didn’t have to lie. “I didn’t.”

“How is that? You never asked?”

“My mom...” Darcy trailed off, still attempting to accept what had happened. Steve had been right; her mother had never lied to her about her true paternity, and Darcy had never pushed the issue. When she felt better (whenever that would be), she’d have to wonder how her mom had kept it hidden for so long. The fact that her mother had been having an affair with a married man didn’t sit right in her chest, but she was trying to give her mom the benefit of the doubt. She deserved that much. “...whenever she talked about my dad, it was always vague. She said he was one of the most brilliant men she’d ever known, and that she could see something in me that reminded her of him.”

This time, it was Tony’s turn to shift uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” Darcy said, tongue clicking as she shook her head at him. “How would you? Besides, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

“But if I’d known –“

“You didn’t.’'

“But if I _had_ –“

“ _Tony_ ,” she breathed, surprised when his name alone stopped the words he’d been about to say, “my mom apparently went to great lengths to keep this under wraps, and to be honest? I don’t know if I can really blame her. The Stark name...”

“It’s heavy,” Tony answered her with a nod, air huffing from his lungs as he agreed with her. “It’s always been heavy.”

Darcy shrugged a shoulder, ignoring the desire to wince when her lower stomach pinged with pain from her incision. “I can’t really fault Mom for wanting to keep it a secret.”

Quiet for another moment, Tony stared at the woman in the bed, a curious expression on his face. He’d only spent a handful of minutes alone with the scientist’s assistant, and he didn’t understand how she wasn’t letting the revelation tear her apart. He was dealing with some of his own disbelief about the entire situation, but this wasn’t the first person who’d tried to claim they were a long-lost relative of his. It’d always been a con, though. This one obviously wasn’t. “You’re taking this rather well.”

“I’ve worked hand-in-hand with a brilliant scientist who fell in love with a Norse god who has a team full of superhero friends. Weird shit has pretty much been my life for the past ten years.” The smirk that lifted Tony’s lips lifted her own. “Look, I mean, what else can I do? I had a great childhood. I knew my mom loved me, and seeing as some people don’t get that, I consider myself lucky. When she passed, I went to live with my aunt and it was... I was happy. If things _had_ to play out the way they did, I wouldn’t change it.”

Though he tried to look for any kind of deception on her part – what kind of person had a _good_ childhood there days? – Tony couldn’t see anything but bittersweet memories coloring her expression. He wondered what it’d be like, being able to look at the past and have no regrets, but it was too foreign a concept to understand. He’d asked Steve what the girl wanted, too jaded and weary to believe someone would do something without ulterior motives, but as he blinked at her, Tony got the distinct impression that she really, honestly, wanted _nothing_ from him. It was odd, then, that he found himself asking. “So happens for you now?”

Darcy frowned, not sure what to make of the question. “What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ , technically you’d be entitled to –“

Her eyes widened. “No,” Darcy breathed with a shake of her head, “don’t even fucking say it.”

Tony ignored her and continued. “Peg made a savings account when she found out, and there’s money –“

“I don’t want it. I don’t _need_ it. Donate it to something good, or keep it for your own  
charities, whatever you want.” Darcy had made peace, many _many_ moons ago, with the fact that she and Jane would never be millionaires from their work. She’d gotten used to living paycheck to paycheck, and then Stark and Banner had recruited them, meaning they had no rent or bills to worry about. The stipend she received for being a _Stark Industries_ employee was enough to keep her comfortable and allow her to buy a few frivolous things every once in a while, and that was enough. “I’m fine with the deal we already struck when you hired me, which was already more than I needed, so I’m good.”

Shaking his head, Tony ran a hand over his face before leveling a suspicious look in her direction, falling back on old habits and unable to deafen the part of him that throbbed with cynicism when it came to the motivations of others. “I don’t _get_ you.”

“Get _what_?”

“You didn’t have to help me. So why did you?”

“The alternative was letting you die,” Darcy said with a roll of her eyes. “And, despite how much of a dick you can be,” she said with a small smile, “I couldn’t just stand by –“

“- while something bad happened. Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

Her grin widened at the look on his face. “I guess this explains how easily you can get under my skin.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Tony murmured, leaning back in the wheelchair, watching her smile to herself before her eyes flicked over his shoulder, like she was looking for someone. “Is this going to be a thing?” When she looked back at him, Tony’s hand gestured through the air. “You expect me to call you ‘sis’ or something?”

Darcy grimaced, her nose crinkling when her tongue stuck out. “Oh, fuck, no. Please don’t do that. It’d be weird, and then I’d have to call you ‘bro’ and, _fuck_ , that tastes pretty bad now that I’ve said it aloud.”

“Guess I’ll just call you Darcy.”

“Or keep calling me ‘Lewis’ like you have been.”

“You don’t...?”

Darcy laughed, shaking her head. “Do I want to take on the Stark name? No. I _like_ my name. Plus,” she said, heaving as large of a sigh that her chest would allow her, ignoring the ache when her lungs expanded, “it’d be confusing. People would see _me_ , call me the smarter Stark, and I’m sure that would grate on you.”

Tony’s lips lifted in a smirk. “You’d think so, but I gotta be honest...”

“Yeah?”

“It’d be nice to split the weight of it.”

“I get that.”

“You really don’t.” Tony muttered, seriousness bleeding into his gaze.

Darcy shrugged a shoulder. “Well, maybe it’s time I start. I might not want it to get out and become this big thing, but I’d really like to know more about him. You have some stories?”

The soft laugh that huffed from Tony’s mouth seemed to lift some of the weight from the air. “Some of them aren’t pretty,” he said, picking a piece of lint from the sweats he wore, eyes cast down. He wasn’t sure what she’d heard about Howard, as not everything that was out there was true, but he’d also never had a _reason_ to tell the stories he kept private. It hadn’t affected anyone but him, but now that had changed, and he had to wonder how she’d take everything.

“Life isn’t pretty,” Darcy countered with a shake of her head. “From what I’ve read, he was a flawed man.” Her face fell a bit when Tony looked up at her. “I mean, no offense or anything.”

“You’re sitting here because of those flaws, so I guess it’s alright.”

“Either way, I figured you’d be the best one to tell me.”

Tony raised an eyebrow in her direction. “It means we’ll have to spend some time together.”

Darcy heaved a loud, labored sigh. “I guess that could be arranged.” When Tony’s lips lifted in a smirk, she returned the expression.

Feeling like something had been decided, Tony jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “I'm going to leave Happy posted on your door. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

The look he gave her was dripping with incredulity. “Is it that hard to figure out? Pretty sure the bomb was meant for me.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, with a gesture in his direction, “and it pretty much succeeded.”

“ _Exactly_. What happens if this gets out? You think whoever did this will spare you because you’re a girl, have a different last name, and just found out yourself? No. It won’t matter. It never does with these people.”

Though Darcy had figured as much - at least, when she’d given herself time to think past the surgery and the monumental changes that had happened in the past twenty-four hours - but hearing it aloud forced a chill up her spine. “More of that Stark weight you were talking about?”

“I’ll do my best to mitigate the risks. Everyone here has signed an NDA and know they’ll get the shit sued out of them if they blab, but security might be a necessity.”

Laying back against her pillows, Darcy scratched at her chin. “Well, if I’d had this information _before_ I saved your life…”

“You wouldn’t have cared.”

This time it was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “You think so?”

“I’m starting to get you a bit, Lewis,” Tony answered, arms crossing over his chest again. “I can see it on your face. Which, now that I know all the cards, I can pick out a few things. Your eyes, for one. His were green. Your mom?”

“Brown,” Darcy answered, lips lifting when she remembered the warmth her mother had carried in those chocolate-brown eyes.

“Makes sense,” Tony hummed, taking a moment to look at Darcy. Her lips were full, fuller than his father’s, but the curve of her jaw was familiar. His family had never been partial to freckles, but he could see a blush of them across her nose, and he wondered if they darkened in the sun. It had to have been from her mom’s side, and the thought stuck in his mind. “... I’d like to know more about her.”

“Who?”

“Your mom.” He ignored the surprised look on her face. Tony knew it wasn’t every day that you wanted to talk about the person your father had cheated on your mother with, but nothing about the situation was even remotely close to being normal. That, at least, felt incredibly familiar. “Sounds like she worked with my dad. What did she study?”

“Thermonuclear dynamics.”

Tony’s eyebrows lifted toward his hairline. “And yet you went to school for political science?”

“I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought being PoliSci would help me narrow it down. Then I applied for the internship with Janey and it all came together. I like taking care of scientists, but I don’t have to be one myself.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Hm?”

“I need a lot of taking care of.”

Darcy snorted, pressing a hand to her chest a second later as her ribs protested the movement. “Don't you have a fiancé that’s supposed to do that?”

“Ah, speaking about Pepper, she wants to have you over, eat some dinner, get to know you better.”

Trying not to let her inner fangirl come out ( _OMG Pepper Potts is going to be my sister-in-law!_ ), Darcy’s eyes widened comically. “Oh god. It’s already starting.”

“That’s how most people react to me,” Tony said, enjoying the way she’d paled at the mention of Pepper. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she’d become starstruck the night the whole team had gotten together to watch a movie, and the idea of watching her attempt a conversation with his better half was amusing.

“You’re fine, Stark. Let’s just try to keep this in the cone of silence.”

“Rogers and Barnes in that cone?”

Darcy blinked quickly at the older man. “Why?”

“They’ve been waiting outside for you to wake up.”

Surprise rocked through Darcy. “But I stayed here overnight.”

“Actually, you’ve been out for three days.”

Shock didn’t begin to cover the emotion that flashed in her head. “ _What?!_?”

“After the issues with the anesthesia, the doctors wanted to keep you sedated and under observation. But you’re feeling better now?”

“Uh,” Darcy said as she took mental stock of her own body. She could definitely tell there was an incision on her lower stomach, and her ribs hurt something fierce, but all in all, she didn’t feel _that_ bad. She flexed her ankle, surprised when it didn’t blind her with pain. When she thought about it, though, she figured being bedridden for several days would have helped with whatever she’d done to it in the elevator. “I mean, I’m sore, but it’s not that bad.”

Her eyes flicked back up to the door, a slightly mystified look on her face. “Bucky and Steve have been here the whole time?”

“They refused to leave,” Tony answered, watching her lick her lips again. It appeared it was something she did when she was nervous, and part of him wondered why the soldiers that had held vigil at her bedside would make her anxious. “Should I be worried?”

Gaze swinging back toward Tony, Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed. “What does _that_ mean?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said, hand gesturing aimlessly through the air, “siblings watch out for each other, or so I’ve heard. They circle wagons, threaten bodily harm…”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Lewis.” When she grinned at him, he nodded his head toward the door. “The doctors want to come in, check on you, and go over aftercare and recovery.”

She nodded, running fingers through her hair again. “I figured as much.”

“But you’re good? Relatively speaking?”

The laugh that bubbled out of her chest was bright. “ _Relatively_ speaking?”

A grimace crossed Tony’s face. “Wow. _Wow_. I’m leaving.”

Darcy’s grin grew crooked, watching as he wheeled himself closer to the door before knocking his knuckles against the wood. Happy pulled the door open and stuck his head in, giving her a nod, which she returned. Right before Happy wheeled him out of the room, Darcy shifted in the bed. “Hey, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

When he looked over at her, Darcy smiled. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Likewise.”

“Don’t go far.”

“You either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Negativity.  
> I can feel it like a black, icky stain.  
> I'm a large proponent that you have to curate what you see on a daily basis.  
> This extends to fandom, too.  
> Don't let other people's issues with characters you love ruin your day.  
> Remember the good things, the things that make you happy, the things that brighten your day.  
> Keep that light and refuse to see it any other way.  
> If it brings you joy? That's all that matters.


	34. More Than This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve visit Darcy. Darcy makes a decision. Jane and Darcy spend some quality BFF time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Hoooooboy is it chilly here in Iowa!  
> It's like all of a sudden fall crashed on the state like a bomb.  
> Hope you're all enjoying your autumn thus far!  
> I think a few of you kind of saw that this was coming, and for that you get a cookie. *bestows your choice of chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, or white chocolate macadamia*  
> For the rest just along for the ride, you get a cookie too!  
> I'm an equal opportunity cookie-giver.  
>  _You get a cookie! And _you_ get a cookie! And _youuuu_ get a cookie! _We all get cookies!__  
>  <3  
>   
> 

_Tell me does your heart beat for something it can't have_  
_Like its fallin' apart_  
_And all it needs is me to put the pieces back_  
_I watch you watching me, While your sitting next to him_  
_But I'm still gonna be the friend you need even if it hurts_  


_We're just friends_  
_It's just not right_  
_I'll just wait till the moments right_  
_'Cause you're just you and I'm just me_  
_I'm just wishin' that we could be_  
_Just a little more than this_  
_Just a little more than just friends_  


_I know you feel the same_  
_I know it when you make me laugh_  
_'Cause I can see the red and it's in your cheeks_  
_And now I'm blushing back_  
_But I can play it cool_  
_I can try and wait this out_  
_But even after all is said and done_  
_You're still the one I dream about_  


_We waited long enough_  
_The moments creeping up_  
_Even when we touch we know its love_  
_Been waiting for your lips_  
_And now you're leaning in_  


_But I can't help it_  
_All the feelings that you put me through_  
_I know its selfish_  
_But I'm only me when i'm with you_  


**Just Friends - Ally Barron**

Bucky pushed off the wall when Happy appeared, pushing a wheelchair-bound Tony out of Darcy’s room. Tony wasn’t looking at him, instead looking down at his lap, exhaustion clear in the engineer’s eyes. As they passed, Bucky turned his attention to the open doorway, but was surprised when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked down at Tony, the other man’s gaze flicking up to him. Freezing, Bucky wasn’t sure what to make of the gesture. No words were exchanged, but when Tony tapped him twice on the arm then nodded up at Happy that he was ready to go, Bucky took it as a sign of gratitude. Shock flowed up and down his spine, not certain what the man had to thank him for.

Surprise didn’t begin to describe what was coursing through Steve’s brain as he watched some kind of moment pass between Tony and Bucky. The uncertainty was mirrored by Happy, and he gave them both a nod as he continued to wheel Tony down the hall and back to his room, where Pepper was speaking with the doctors about follow-up appointments and care. When Bucky turned to look at him, Steve gave him a soft shake of his head. In the three days since the explosions and their aftermath, there’d been some kind of truce declared between Tony and Bucky, and it appeared that the tenuous cease-fire would be extended further.

When Steve looked just as surprised as he did, Bucky turned his mind to the room across from him, and the raven-haired woman who laid in the bed. He stuck his head in the door, watching as Darcy attempted to run a hand through her hair. She grimaced when some of her hair got caught on the tape securing the IV to the back of her hand, pulling it. “Hold on, I’ll help,” he said, watching those hazel eyes flick up to him as he moved further into the room.

As she watched Bucky and Steve enter the room, Darcy’s heart leapt in her chest. It felt like she’d seen them only moments ago, but it was clear that some time had passed. There was a smattering of facial hair on both men, and the lines of their faces were darker than normal, like they hadn’t gotten much rest. She wanted to say something, _anything_ , to explain how grateful she was, but her heart stuck in her throat and her eyes began to fill with tears. She wasn’t sure how to properly express how much what they’d done had meant to her, so she stuck with the familiar banter the three of them defaulted back to. “Tony said you’ve been outside for three days. I hope you took breaks to shower, because you were pretty rank the last time I saw you.”

Bucky untangled Darcy’s hair from the tape, taking a step back so he could look down at her. “And the last time we saw you, you were almost dying.”

A laugh huffed out of Darcy’s chest at the matter-of-fact way Bucky’d dropped that sentence. “ _Wow_ , Buck, way to bring down the room.”

“I think what he _meant_ ,” Steve said, reaching out to squeeze Darcy’s knee through the blanket covering her, “is that we win when it comes to last looks.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and the softly chastisizing tone in Steve’s voice. “Okay, _okay_ , I get it. No more dying.”

“I think we’d both really like that,” Steve said with a grin.

“I can promise that it’s not on my agenda currently.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her. “But it was before?”

Darcy considered his question. “Point taken. But it’s not like it was my fault.”

“I know. It was ours. I’m sorry.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Darcy frowned at Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“Whether they were targeting Stark or one of us,” Bucky glowered, “you were caught in the crosshairs. I’m sorr-“

The hand she held up in the air successfully stopped the word Bucky had been about to say. “Bucky, I know it’s been a little bit now, but what was one of the first things we agreed to?”

With a small look of chagrin, Bucky tore his eyes from her and the genuine compassion in her gaze. “You said we needed to stop apologizing so much.”

“I don’t need you to apologize for _anything_ ,” Darcy said with feeling. “I’m _alive_ because of you two, remember?”

Steve took a step forward, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Yeah, we remember. Bucky hasn’t stopped talking about all the baked goods we were promised.” It was clear his friend was going through a lot when it came to Darcy. He’d tried talking to Bucky over the past three days, but the other man had been quiet. He’d gotten better as Darcy’s vitals had improved, but Steve had known that until Bucky saw the hazel of her eyes, he wouldn’t feel settled.

“ _Ooohhh_ , well get ready, ‘cause it’s gonna happen.” When they continued to smile down at her, Darcy wanted to shift under the weight of their gazes. Feeling the need to fill the silence, she chose to change the subject. “How is everyone else? Any idea who the bastard was?”

“We’re still working through things,” Bucky said, righteous anger and frustration in his tone, “but nothing so far.”

Deciding that talking about the elevator and who’d placed a bomb on top of it – not to mention basically blowing up Tony Stark and killing him, had things not worked out – was probably not the best topic of conversation, Darcy hurried to change the subject again. “Hey, okay, let’s talk about _happy_ things. Like Jane. Where is that tiny spider-monkey scientist? I’m surprised she wasn’t here before you.”

“Thor convinced her that she needed something more substantial than pop-tarts, so they took a break,” Steve explained.

Darcy’s eyes widened. “Thor’s been here this whole time, too?”

“You’ve got quite a few of us wrapped around your finger.”

Rolling her eyes at Steve, Darcy laid back against the pillows. “No, I just have really, _really_ good taste in friends.”

A smile curled Steve’s lips. “Can’t argue with you there.”

Darcy returned the grin, taking a few seconds to take in the sight of Steve. The beard he’d begun growing darkened his face, but somehow made him even more attractive, which she’d assumed impossible, but there he was, standing in front of her. When her gaze flicked to Bucky, she could see something in the storm gray, something haunting, and she reached out to grab his hand. “Your eyes are dark today,” she hummed, expression taking on a tint of worry.

“I’m alright now that you’re awake,” Bucky answered, feeling a sense of foreboding and dread that made his throat tight. He sat next to her on the bed, their clasped hands resting on his knee, his thumb running back and forth over her skin.

Not believing him for a second, Darcy’s frown deepened. “Are you sure?”

Deciding he wanted to get it done as quickly as possible, like setting a dislocated shoulder, Bucky took a deep breath in, then let it out. He opened his mouth to start, but found his tongue was dry, his heart hammering in his chest. He looked down at his feet, trying to gather the strength he needed to do what needed to be done.

The way he was avoiding her gaze was enough to lift the hairs on her arms. There was a heft in the air, like how it feels just before a lightning strikes, or a breeze carries the smell of petrichor before a storm starts. Darcy squeezed his hand again, feeling it shaking the slightest bit. Pushing past the nerves he was giving her, she kept her eyes on his. “Whatever it is, Buck, it’s okay.”

Steve could see Bucky was trying, but the soldier needed support. He hadn’t known how his best friend would handle the conversation, expecting it would take a bit to work up to what he needed to say, and it surprised him that he was going to do it so soon after everything. It made sense, though, because he could see fear behind Bucky’s eyes. Bucky was afraid that Darcy would want nothing to do with him once she knew how her father had been killed. _Steve_ , however, was positive it wouldn’t change the way Darcy treated Bucky. He’d never met someone with such compassion for other people. He took a step forward and placed a soft hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him what strength he could.

Bucky could see the worry in Darcy’s eyes, and it cut into his chest like a knife. He cleared his throat, fingers squeezing hers reflexively, expecting at any moment that she’d tear her hand from his. “When I was under Hydra’s control, they sent me on a mission. I completed the mission.”

Darcy could see the struggle in Bucky’s eyes, and it sped her heartbeat. “... okay.”

“I was sent to kill a scientist and his wife. The scientist I murdered was Howard Stark.”

The information was there, and she’d heard it, but it was hard for Darcy to fully digest at one time. “Oh,” she said, eyebrows falling then furrowing. In the past twenty-four hours (or what _felt_ like just twenty-four hours to her, anyway), she’d been given a lot of shocking facts that stuck on her tongue, too thick to bite into. “Does Tony know?” When she glanced up at Bucky, she watched him nod, but he said nothing.

The horror in Bucky’s eyes was visceral, and Darcy felt like if she wanted to, she could reach out and run her hand over the darkness the soldier was emitting, fingers curling through it like smoke. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, again avoiding her gaze. Thinking about what he’d just confessed, she couldn’t _imagine_ what he was going through. In her eyes, she already knew Howard was dead and that she’d never get to meet him. Hell, Tony had only been in his mid-twenties when Howard had died, and she’d only been around five or six-years-old. But in the months since she’d become Bucky’s friend, she knew how hard everything he’d done under Hydra’s control weighed on him. He was mournful, and guilty, and it was clear he’d been traumatized by everything.

She tried to analyze her own feelings, to see if she felt any kind of anger at Bucky, but there _was_ none, because it hadn’t _been him_ in the first place. All she felt was sad for Bucky. And for Tony. And every other life that had been destroyed by Hydra’s evil reach. “It wasn’t your fault, Bucky. They made you do it. It wasn’t you.”

Steve watched Darcy blink those eyes at Bucky - no hint of pretense, no iota of anger, not one single piece of regret – and felt his heart leap behind his ribcage. He wasn’t sure what they’d done to warrant her friendship, but in that moment, Steve felt more at peace at their sides then he had in a very long time. Other than Natasha, he’d yet to find someone who treated Bucky the way he deserved, and Darcy was perfect. She handled his grief and terror better than he’d thought possible, and he felt affection sing in his chest.

It was too hard for Bucky to accept the softness in her eyes, not when he was confessing to murder. “I killed your father.”

“No,” Darcy said with a shake of her head, “ _Hydra_ killed Howard. Not you.”

“It was _my_ hand.”

“Yes, and those hands _saved_ my life in that elevator.”

Not certain what to say, having never expected her to take the knowledge so easily, Bucky shook his head, eyes flicking back up to hers as he let out a soft breath. He wasn’t sure what else to say about the fact, so he swallowed her faith and felt it lift his lips. “Your hands saved me first,” Bucky said, putting the truth of the statement in his eyes, wanting her to know how grateful he was.

The look of surprise and warmth in Bucky’s gaze brought heat to Darcy’s cheeks, not sure why the way he was looking at her made her want to squirm. There was too much there, too many emotions, and she felt them tightening around her throat and bringing tears to her eyes. The past hour had been nothing short of chaos, but the fact that she could count on Bucky and Steve to keep her grounded, and feeling whole, was like a prayer she’d been whispering over and over again.

Darcy opened her mouth but was interrupted by a knock on the open door. Her eyebrows lifted toward her hairline when she recognized the man, a very large bouquet of spring flowers held in his hands. She blinked, trying to get over her shock. “Zeke! Hi.” 

Seeing Zeke wasn’t the shock she needed to move past, but instead it was the fact that since the moment that elevator had bathed her in crimson light and jerked to a stop, Zeke Taylor hadn’t crossed her mind _once_. Not a single time. Her thoughts had never strayed to the engineer she’d been seeing regularly for the past couple of months. 

After the conversation she’d had with Thor, and the insight and wisdom he’d gifted her, Darcy had known she’d need to speak with him, but she’d been hoping to do it at the right time. Then the bombs had exploded and her entire life had shifted, and now that she was on the other side, she didn’t _want_ to wait. She didn’t want to cause him any more pain by staying on the fence about things. She knew what she needed to do.

Zeke took a step further into the room, nodding at both Bucky and Steve before taking another step closer to the bed and the woman in it. When Bucky slipped from the bed and moved to Steve’s side, Zeke grabbed a chair and pulled it closer, reaching out to hold Darcy’s hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“It’s fine,” Darcy said, grinning softly, “I literally only woke up about an hour ago.”

Zeke’s hand squeezed hers. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be here Saturday, so when I didn’t hear from you, I didn’t worry. But then Sergeant Barnes came and found me...”

When both Darcy and Steve glanced in his direction, looks of surprise on their faces, Bucky shrugged a shoulder. “I figured you’d want to see him,” he said. It hadn’t been easy for him to do, but ever since he’d accepted the truth of his feelings for Darcy, he’d been reminding himself over and over that she was _with_ someone else, and that in order to love her better, he also needed to respect the decisions that she’d made. And Zeke was one of those decisions.

Darcy didn’t know what to make of the look in Bucky’s eyes, and while she would have loved to poke him into coming out with it, she had other things that needed to be done first. “Thank you.” When Bucky simply gave her another nod, she turned back to Zeke when he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“But you’re really okay? What happened?”

Again, Darcy’s eyes flicked up to Bucky and Steve. It wasn’t like she could tell Zeke the truth of what happened; though she trusted him, they needed to be very careful who found out she was related to Tony. Like the billionaire had said, the Stark name was heavy, and in order to stay safe, it meant that whole truths might not be possible. She could tell they were thinking the same thing, so she bit the bullet and lied, though she hated the feeling. “I... got hit with some debris. A piece of glass cut into my stomach and knicked an artery.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Zeke said, a look of grief on his face.

“But I’m alright,” Darcy insisted, “really. I’m already feeling better.”

“When I realized you... I mean, if I’d done that? If I’d lost you? I don’t know what I’d do.”

The pain in his eyes was bare, and Darcy squeezed his hand again. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner.”

“It’s not your fault, Darcy.” Zeke seemed to shake off the shock and squeezed her hand again. “What does the recovery time look like?”

“About six weeks,” Bucky answered, watching both Zeke and Darcy glance back at him. “She’s going to stay with us so we can look after her.”

A frown turned Darcy’s lips. “I’m sure Jane could –“

“She’s got a conference out of town the same day they’re letting you out,” Steve said with a shake of his head. 

“Oh yeah.” Though she knew she shouldn’t have felt bad at not remembering the conference (though in her defense, she’d had a pretty shitty couple of days), Darcy still felt guilty that she’d be stealing Bucky and Steve from their work. “I’m sure she could canc –“

“We already worked it out,” Bucky answered, not willing to budge on the fact. It was one of the first things he and Jane had talked about after Darcy had stabilized. From Jane’s experience, it was going to be hard to keep Darcy still enough to heal and he’d wanted as much information from the astrophysicist as possible. “We told her we could handle taking care of you for a few days.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Oh _can_ you?”

“I’d like to help, if I can,” Zeke said, earning the eyes in the room. “Maybe we can watch movies or something.”

A look of feigned shock crossed Darcy’s face. “You? Wanting to watch movies? Am I still under anesthesia?”

“No, and I hope you never are again.”

As Zeke grinned at her, Darcy felt a stab of guilt solidify in her chest. She took a page out of Bucky’s book, wanting to get the words out as quickly as possible to avoid additional pain. Again, the hand in hers felt wrong somehow. When she glanced up at Bucky and Steve, she could see they’d realized _something_ was going on, but were looking to her for direction. “Would you mind giving us the room?”

“Of course,” Steve said as he took a step closer to the bed. He’d been content to sit back and let Bucky get out what he needed, but looking down at Darcy, all he could feel was gratitude that she was alright. He knew there would be trouble in the coming months – like attempting to keep her from overdoing things when she was still healing, not to mention trying to keep her connection with Howard and Tony quiet – but for the moment he was able to relax. She was _safe_ , and amazing, and he’d be seeing her soon anyway, since he had Bucky would be taking care of her. There would be plenty of time to talk. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Darcy.”

Her body went still when Steve leaned into her, pressing his lips to her forehead. Her throat was too tight to respond, just giving him a nod as he started toward the door. She glanced at Bucky, his grey eyes holding hers for a moment before he followed Steve from the room, leaving her alone with Zeke. Running a hand over her face, _dreading_ what she was about to do but knowing it was _right_ , she looked back to Zeke, her heart breaking. “We need to talk.”

What color had been in Zeke’s cheeks seemed to disappear. “No good conversations start this way.”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said, trying not to cringe externally as much as she was internally. “I _really_ like you, Zeke, and I love spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you, too.”

“...but with everything that’s been going on, it’s made me see things a little clearer, and I can’t help feeling like maybe we were just meant to be friends.” She watched his face fall.

“Oh.”

“You’re a great guy, Zeke. You’re sweet, and smart, and I _really_ wish my heart was ready for something more, but it’s not fair to you to drag this out. I don’t want to hurt you worse later.”

The breath Zeke had been holding huffed outward as he looked down at his hands. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”

“I know,” Darcy said, feeling her eyes begin to fill with tears. She meant what she’d told him; he was a great guy, and he was going to make someone very, very happy. It just wasn’t her. “I’m sorry.”

After heaving a large sigh, Zeke looked up at her with a soft smile. “It’s okay, Darcy. Really. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t want to lose you. My life is better with you in it, Darcy Lewis.”

“Likewise, Zeke Taylor.” Feeling like a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and supremely grateful that Zeke understood, Darcy felt better than she had in weeks. Well, as well as someone could feel after almost dying in an elevator, finding out they had a sibling, giving a kidney to that sibling, then almost dying _again_ on the operating table. Her gaze flicked up when the door opened, and she watched Happy stick his head into the room.

Happy’s dark eyes flicked from Darcy, then landed on the guy next to her on the bed. “Zeke.”

“Hey, Happy.”

Turning back to Darcy, Happy raised an eyebrow at the woman. “You good?”

Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the question. “Huh?”

“Boss sent me in here to...” He trailed off, looking at Zeke then back to Darcy again. “... he wants to know when it’d be a good time for you to have a, uh, meeting with the CEO. You know, to go over insurance and compensation.”

Confusion still clouded Darcy’s mind as she tried to puzzle out what Happy was really asking. Her eyes widened when she realized he was being careful not to mention anything revealing while Zeke was in the room. She knew they’d be keeping a lockdown on the knowledge getting out, but the double-speak was going to be hard. Remembering Tony had mentioned something about Pepper wanting to have dinner (which filled Darcy’s stomach with crump dancing butterflies), she gave Happy a shrug of her shoulder. “I guess whenever I get out of here.”

“I’ll let him know.” Giving both of them another nod of his head, Happy disappeared back into the hallway.

“Insurance?”

Darcy looked over at Zeke, a small smile turning her lips. “They’re paying all my medical bills, seeing as this happened on company grounds and what not.”

Zeke’s expression lightened. “Well, that’s good, and makes sense. It’s the least they can do.”

When he went quiet again, Darcy squeezed his hand. “Thank you for the flowers, Zeke.”

He returned her smile. “You’re welcome. I’m really glad you’re okay, Darcy.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her cheek, his own heating pink when he pulled back. “You’ll send me a text so we can make plans for a movie?”

“Absolutely.”

Zeke slid from Darcy’s hospital bed, watching as she let out a large sigh and her eyes fluttered closed. He pulled the door open and entered the hallway, blue eyes landing on Steve and Bucky. Both men’s eyes looked his way as he closed the door softly. “I think she’s pretty tired.” When they just nodded at him, he started down the hallway before stopping and turning back to the soldiers. “Thank you for getting me, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Sure,” Bucky said with a slight nod of his head.

“You said Darcy would be staying with you?”

Some part of Bucky wasn’t sure how to handle the engineer, and he readied himself for a fight. He’d offered his and Steve’s rooms to Darcy in an effort to keep her from overdoing things, as Jane said she was likely to do. It hadn’t entered his mind that Zeke might argue and want to take care of Darcy’s himself. Now, though, he felt anxiety bite up and down his arms, readying his arguments. “Yeah.”

“If you could schedule me in for a night or two, that’d be great.”

Surprised at the request, and noticing a slight hesitation in the man’s expression, Steve nodded at him. “Sure, Zeke. Everything alright?”

“Of course,” Zeke answered. “Just want to make sure she doesn’t get too bored.”

“A bored Darcy Lewis is a dangerous Darcy Lewis,” Steve agreed.

A grin popped onto Bucky’s face at Steve’s words. “From what Jane’s said, she’s a pretty bad patient.”

“I can believe it. The woman doesn’t know how to turn it off.”

Bucky blinked at Zeke. “Turn what off?”

“Letting people believe they’re taking care of her when she’s really the one taking care of us.”

Impressed with the insight into Darcy’s personality, Steve once again saw a shade in the man’s eyes. “You okay?”

“I will be,” Zeke said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Thank you, again. For taking care of her.”

“Of course.”

Zeke’s eyes flicked over Steve and Bucky’s shoulders, lifting his hand in the air. “Hey boss!” Looking back to Bucky and Steve, Zeke gave them a short smile. “I’ll hear from you soon?”

Steve watched Bucky nod at the man before the engineer jogged toward Tony and Happy. Shifting his attention to his best friend, he was able to see that Bucky looked lighter, like some kind of peace had been found. “You good?”

Taking a deep breath then letting it out, Bucky looked over at Steve as he nodded. “How does she do it? I just told her I killed her father and it barely phased her.”

“No,” Steve said with a shake of his head, “I’m sure it was hard, but she knows it wasn’t your fault.”

“We don’t deserve her, Steve,” Bucky hummed, running a hand over his face.

“Maybe she’s exactly what we deserve.”

Bucky looked sharply in Steve’s direction, trying to decipher the meaning behind his best friend’s words. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, and as he continued to try, he realized that after three days with little to no sleep, he was fading fast, the stress of everything catching up with him. “We should get cleaned up and catch some kip while we can. It’s going to take all our energy to keep her from overdoing it.”

Steve let out a sigh. “Why does this sound like the worst mission _and_ the one with the highest chance of failure?”

“Because it is,” Bucky answered with a smile. “It absolutely is.”

Jane’s tongue hung from the side of her mouth as she concentrated, carefully spreading the bright lilac nail polish on Darcy’s toes. When she was satisfied, she looked up at her best friend. “I could cancel my trip.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at Jane, lifting her head from her pillow so she could shake it at Jane. “No, don’t. Bucky and Steve were right. The conference is important and you’ve been looking forward to it for months. I’ll be fine. I’ll be in good hands.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jane paused and gave Darcy a knowing grin. “Oh _really_?”

“Hey,” Darcy said, eyes narrowing in Jane’s direction.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jane said, though she held no chagrin or guilt in her tone. She watched Darcy for a second, the other woman’s eyes lingering on the pretty vase and the colorful array of flowers it held. “I think you did the right thing.”

Tearing her eyes from the flowers, still feeling sad that she might have hurt Zeke, Darcy sighed dramatically. “I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“At least he took it well,” Jane hummed, squinting her eyes at Darcy’s toes. “It’s ridiculous that women have to be afraid to break up with someone, in case they take it badly and hurt us.”

“This world is fucked up.”

“It is.”

“But he’s one of the good ones.”

Jane shrugged a shoulder. “He’s a little small for my tastes.”

Darcy laughed at the nose crinkle Jane made. “The different in size between you and Thor is _insane_.”

“We make it work.”

“Whoa,” Darcy groused, holding up a hand, “holy TMI, Batman.”

Jane leveled a disbelieving look toward Darcy. “As if you haven’t heard it all before.”

“Yeah. Sometimes _literally_.”

A blush dusted across Jane’s cheeks, but she seemed to think better of it and shrugged a shoulder. “You know what? I’m gonna own it.”

“Good. You should. You get to have sex with a GodKing. I’d be shouting that shit from the highest mountain tops so everyone knew.”

Rolling her eyes at her friend, Jane finished the last toe on Darcy’s left foot and tapped her ankle. Darcy lifted her leg to get a better look, then groaned in pain. As she pressed a hand near her lower stomach, Jane gestured through the air at Darcy. “Seriously? _This_ is why we have to keep a person with you at all times! You’re going to hurt yourself because you think you’re fine, but you’re _not_.”

“I’m sore,” Darcy argued, “I just have to learn my limits.”

“Yeah, so you can completely bust through them like kool-aid man.”

Darcy’s face screwed up before she laughed, then attempted an impression of the large red character. “ _Oohhhh yeahhhhhh!_?”

Rolling her eyes again, Jane was glad when Darcy settled back against the pillows, propping them up so she could get a better view. Jane moved to Darcy’s other foot, pulling it into her lap. “Thor was really worried about you.”

A warm smile, thick with affection, turned Darcy’s lips. “He’s adorable.”

“If he’d been here when you got hurt, he said he would have taken you to the Asgardian healers.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “ _Really?!_ I mean, that would’ve been cool as fuck, but I’m glad things didn’t get to that point.”

“He also said he would have used Mjolnir to shock your heart to get it beating again.”

“ _Fuck_ , that would’ve been so cool!”

“Would it?” The sober tone in Jane’s voice made the smile and light slip from Darcy’s eyes. “You really, _really_ scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said, her chest tightening at the worry and fear that was thick in Jane’s whiskey-colored eyes.

“It’s not your fault. _But_ , if you could keep from ever doing it again, I’d really appreciate it.”

Darcy’s eyes filled with tears, and she felt a crush of emotion flood her person. Even though it’d only been a few days since Darcy had discovered she had an actual blood-related sibling, it had done _absolutely nothing_ to diminish the love and gratitude she felt for Jane. The astrophysicist had been a constant source of encouragement and support, and it meant more to Darcy than almost anything else. She would never be able to properly express how much she loved her best friend. “I promise I’ll do my best,” she hummed when she was sure the words wouldn’t loose tears down her cheeks. “How’s your head?”

Jane reached up at Darcy’s question, running her hand over the cut at her hairline. It was already beginning to scab over, “you can barely even notice it.”

“I can see it.”

A smile curled Jane’s lips. “Because you know me too well,” she commented.

“From eyebrows to toenails,” Darcy said with a grin. The grin slipped, realizing that phrase had been one of the things her ‘mother’ had said in her dream, or vision, or whatever it’d been. She wasn’t sure why the phrase sped her heart, other than the fact that she was still struggling with the idea of what her mother had done. “My mom had an affair with a married man.”

When Jane glanced up at Darcy, she could see a conflict in her best friend’s hazel eyes. “I’m sure she had her reasons. It takes two, after all, and from what I’ve heard about Howard Stark...”

“I basically said the exact same thing to Tony,” Darcy said with a soft snort.

Jane’s eyebrows raised toward her hairline. “How’d he take that?”

“Said I was here because of Howard’s issues, so I was fine.”

A low whistle sounded from between Jane’s lips. “That’s surprising.”

Nodding, Darcy settled back against the pillows again. She’d felt like a yo-yo; one second she felt great, the next she just felt _exhausted_. It’d been a rough couple of days (an understatement of mythic proportions), but having Jane there made things easier, like she always did. “It’s still hard for me to wrap my head around.”

“I know,” Jane hummed, “but your mom loved you, regardless of the rest.”

“Oh, that I know. Not worried about that part. It’s just... I have a brother.”

“ _And_ you work for him.”

Darcy let out a gasp. “Wait. If I’m a Stark, does that mean you work for _me_ now?”

“It’d be a nice change of pace,” Jane said with a grin. “If we break another piece of equipment, I can’t imagine they’ll be too upset.”

“ _Mmmmhmmm_ ,” Darcy said, laughing as she thought about how that conversation would go. It wasn’t like they’d really cared before, but she sure as hell would cause a ruckus if Tony decided to get stingy _now_. “Did you know that he offered me money?”

Jane glanced up from Darcy’s toes. “Zeke?”

“No! Tony.”

Eyebrows furrowing, confusion filled Jane’s gaze. “... for your kidney?”

“No, he thought I’d want some kind of inheritance or something.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Right? Ridiculous.”

“I mean, I get why he would,” Jane offered with a shrug, “but what’d you say?”

“I told him to donate it,” Darcy said with a frown. 

A smile graced Jane’s face, her eyes softening. “Of course you did.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Darcy asked, her hand gesturing uselessly through the air. “The man probably has trust issues. Can you imagine how many people have shaken him down for money? Or outright extorted him?”

Jane’s expression turned toward consideration. “We _kind_ of did the same thing in the library when they hired us.”

“No we didn’t,” Darcy argued with a shake of her head.

“You basically asked him for a car!”

“He has an entire garage of them! Free for anyone to use! He didn’t actually have to agree since he already had it set up!”

“I’m not judging,” Jane said with a hand in the air to stop the offensive noises Darcy was throwing her way. “I agree, though. If I was him, I’d have trust issues, too.”

Watching Jane focus back on her toes, Darcy laid herself back against the pillows and let her eyes fall closed. She tried to imagine what a young Tony Stark had been like, abd the type of home he’d grown up in. Though she knew it’d been one of affluence, money rarely meant that people were happy. It was one of the reasons she’d never seen a paycheck as important as integrity. Darcy had thrown herself into Jane’s life and research knowing they’d never become millionaires from it, but in the end it _mattered_ , and that’s all that counted to Darcy. They’d struggled over the years, but they’d always made it work.

Despite his wealth, Darcy wondered if Tony had been lonely growing up. He’d been an only child (at least as far as they’d known), and while _she’d_ never been lonely as a child, either, she had always wondered what it’d have been like to have a sibling. It would be nice to spend time with the engineer, getting to know him and his life better. Thinking about Tony had her mind remembering the conversation she’d had with Bucky, the one where his eyes had been drowning with fear and uncertainty. She couldn’t imagine how hard the knowledge had to have come. “The Winter Soldier killed Howard Stark.”

Jane, who’d been in the middle of a brushstroke, stopped and looked up at Darcy with wide eyes. “ _What?_ ”

“Bucky told me yesterday.”

“Oh my god,” Jane said, blinking quickly.

“I know,” Darcy agreed.

“Does Tony know?”

Darcy nodded. “Bucky said he does.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jane breathed. She didn’t often use expletives (at least, not as freely as Darcy did), but she figured if there were times to curse, this was one of them. Watching Darcy’s eyes, she tried to gauge how her friend was handling the information. “Are you okay?”

“It wasn’t him,” Darcy said, echoing the comments she’d made to Bucky the previous day. “It wasn’t Bucky. When I first met him, I called him the Winter Soldier, but he’s not. They’re two completely different people, Jane. He was worried I’d be angry for something he did when he wasn’t him.”

“You remember what Erik used to say? ‘ _You can’t wash your hands of the sins they participated in._.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, shaking her head, “and I told him exactly what he could do with those thoughts.” Ever since Selvig had been terrorized and torn apart by Thor’s brother, Darcy had been doing her best to reassure one of her mentors that what he did wasn’t _his_ fault, just like she’d tried explaining to Bucky. She’d never waver from her belief that they weren’t guilty for the acts that they’d done under someone else’s control. Whenever Erik had started down that dark road, Darcy had refused to let him drown, more than happy to be the floatation device he’d needed to keep his head above water. If that’s what she needed to do for Bucky, too, she would gladly take on the role. It was the least she could do for him.

“I remember.” When she went quiet, Jane watched Darcy hurt on Bucky’s behalf. Darcy had always been so loyal to people she’d decided were hers, and like she always did, Jane worried that her best friend was taking on more emotions than she rightfully needed to. Darcy’s heart was always so large, always ready to take on more, always willing to reassure others when she herself was overwhelmed. It wasn’t self-destructive, but it did put the younger woman at risk, and Jane couldn’t help worrying about her best friend. “Are you sure you don’t want me to cancel my trip?”

Dipping her chin in Jane’s direction, Darcy’s glare was pointed. “Jane Amelia Foster, I won’t tell you again.”

Rolling her eyes, but lips turning up in a smile, Jane squeezed Darcy’s ankle and turned back to the job of finishing Darcy’s toes. When the foot in her hand jerked, smearing the lilac color across Darcy’s skin, Jane narrowed her eyes and looked up at the innocently blinking woman in the bed.

“What? It was an accident!”

“ _Mmmhmm_ ,” Jane hummed, not believing her friend in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change is hard.  
> Whether it's a change in location due to a move, a change in employment, or a change in the weather, constant change can keep you off balance and off kilter.  
> Growing pains may ache, but they're worth it.  
> Allow yourself to accept new challenges, because you've got the strength in you.  
> Allow yourself to mourn what you've lost, because no one can steal the memories and emotions you keep inside.  
> Allow yourself to move on when things where you are begin to tear you down.  
> Feel the changes. Embrace them. Nothing comes easy, but that's part of the fun.  
> <3


	35. Tell Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, Bucky, and Steve deal with feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Another week, another chapter!  
> I hope the past week was full of fun and health!  
> But if it wasn't? This is me putting good thoughts into the universe on your behalf!  
> Days are getting shorter, nights and darkness longer, but we still linger in the light!  
> <3  
>   
> 

_She'll tell you secrets_  
_You'll tell her secrets too_  
_She'll tell you all her hopes and dreams_  
_You'll tell them too_  


_But don't you run away run away_  
_When you get tired_  
_'Cause this will slip away, slip away_  
_And start a fire_  
_That can never be put out_  
_Oh hurry time is running out_  


_When she says she needs you_  
_Tell her you need her too_  
_You tell her clearly_  
_Speak what your heart wants you to_  
_Tell her she's lovely_  
_Always tell her the truth_  
_When she says she loves you_  
_Tell her you love her too_  


**Tell Her You Love Her - The Echosmiths**

“Go fish.”

Darcy threw the cards in her hands to the blanket, her head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck!”

“You were the one that wanted to play this game,” Bucky said with a shake of his head. “Can’t help that you’re no good at it.”

“It’s ‘go fish’,” Darcy argued, “I didn’t think you’d both be some kind of card savants.”

“We played cards all the time with the Commandos,” Steve said, lips curling at the back and forth between Bucky and Darcy. He knew it wasn’t easy for her to be cooped up here until they released her, but he and Bucky had been doing their best to take her mind off things.

“Dum Dum was horrible,” Bucky hummed, memories of the bowler-hat wearing soldier forcing his lips into a smile.

“Morita won more than I’d want to admit.”

“Tripp wasn’t too bad either. But Steve?” Bucky leaned into Darcy, lowering his voice conspiratorially but knowing the blond could hear him just fine. “Steve was horrible.”

“Poker just wasn’t my strong suit,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

“You? Not strong at something? I do not believe this in the slightest.” The look Steve shot her made Darcy laugh, but the laugh turned to a groan when he set the last of the cards in his hand on the blanket. “ _Ugh_. Rogers, if you could stop winning, that’d be ideal.”

“You’ll get over it,” Steve said with a smile, watching as Bucky gathered the cards and began shuffling them. Turning his attention back to the woman in the bed, he watched her lips purse together as her eyes tracked the movement of Bucky’s fingers.

Over the previous forty-eight hours, he and Bucky had spent the majority of their time in Darcy’s hospital room, enough that they’d gotten to know her doctors on a first name basis. It’d been nearly impossible to drag Bucky from her side. It reminded Steve _so much_ of how Bucky used to fret over him, too, that the memories had tightened his throat with bittersweet nostalgia. A lot had changed since Steve had been that sick, gaunt little boy who didn’t know any better, but the way Bucky took care of people was exactly the same.

When Darcy shifted against the pillows, Steve reached out to squeeze her knee. “You ready to get out?”

Darcy leveled her hazel gaze in Steve’s direction. “I’ve _been_ ready,” she said with a huff in her tone. “I hate this place. Tony got out _days_ ago.”

“They just want to make sure you’re alright -”

“After I almost died,” Darcy finished for Bucky, watching his lips turn up at the interruption. “Yeah. I know. Doesn’t make me any less antsy about it.”

“I know,” Steve hummed. “It’s just one more sleep, then we’ll break you out.”

Darcy sighed, looking back and forth between the men. She was positive that she’d have pulled her hair out by now, if not for the way they’d distracted her. She’d had a steady stream of visitors, people intent on keeping her mind off the fact that she was practically a prisoner. She tried to tell herself that it was just a couple of days, that in the long run it would be _nothing_ , but it did very little to calm her nerves.

The fact that Steve and Bucky - who she was sure had much better things to do than keep her busy - had refused to leave her side was indescribable. She’d never had so many people worrying about her, and as itchy as it normally made her feel, somehow their care just filled her with warmth. “You guys are very sweet, but I can take care of myself. I don’t _have_ to stay with you.”

Bucky’s expression told her exactly what he thought about her argument. “Jane made us promise.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at the finality in Bucky’s voice. “But did she make you pinky swear?”

“ _Mmmhmmm_ ,” Bucky hummed, Steve nodding along with a solemn look on his face.

“Ugh,” Darcy said begrudgingly, crossing her arms over her chest, “Fine. Nobody goes against a pinky swear. I mean, it was kind of underhanded if you ask me…”

Steve saw Bucky roll his eyes in his peripheral vision as he shuffled the cards again, though a ghost of a grin lifted his lips when Darcy wasn’t looking. “It’ll just be for a week or so,” Steve assured her. “Hopefully you won’t get too bored with us.”

Darcy dipped her chin in his direction. “I’ve never been bored around you two. Ever.”

“Good to know,” Steve said, accepting the cards when Bucky began dealing them.

“But if something bad happens somewhere -”

Bucky didn’t let her finish the thought. “The others on the team know what’s going on. Unless it’s absolutely necessary, we’re all yours.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Oh _reaaaaaally_?” When Steve avoided her gaze, a breathtaking pink gracing his cheeks, she couldn’t help the self-satisfied smile that graced her face. 

“You’ll be sleeping in my room,” Bucky said, ignoring the way Darcy’s eyebrows wriggled at him, “and we’ll be right next door.”

The exasperation in Bucky’s voice lifted her spirit. “So I get to sleep between your sheets?”

“I’ll wash them tonight.”

“Awwww,” Darcy hummed with a frown, “but then they won’t smell like you.”

This time it was Bucky’s turn to raise his eyebrow. “You want them to?”

“I _like_ the way you smell,” Darcy said, though now that she’d said it allowed, she realized it had come out kind of creepy. “I just mean that it’s nice. Like boy.” The look he was giving her made her double down. “You’re telling me you don’t like certain smells? Things that remind you of something?”

“Bubble gum,” Steve said as he arranged his cards.

A look of confusion crossed Darcy’s face. “Huh?”

When he looked up, Steve realized they were both looking to him for an explanation, and he set his cards aside. “Bubble gum makes me think of home. And popcorn. We went to see the Yankees play one year,” he started, watching Bucky’s face as he recalled the memory. “Ma got a bonus from one of her in-home patients, and since we’d never been to a game before, she took the two of us. Even had enough to buy us bubble gum and popcorn. It was a good day.”

“Yeah it was,” Bucky said, nostalgia burning in his chest.

The wistful looks on both of their faces was like a breath of fresh air, and Darcy found herself wishing more of their memories were of the nice variety. “She sounds like quite the woman.”

“She was,” Steve agreed.

The card game forgotten momentarily, Darcy reached out to squeeze Steve’s hand with her own. “Tell me more about her?”

When Steve looked up at Darcy, Bucky could see the tinge of sadness in his best friend’s gaze. “Sarah had a great smile,” Bucky said, smiling softly when Steve looked toward him with gratitude. “Her hands were soft. When my mother got sick, Sarah made sure she took it easy, made sure she didn’t push herself. It could have gone badly, but Sarah was so good. She had this way about her. Calm. Warm. Even when things were bad, when anyone else would have lost hope, she could make you believe things were going to get better. She really knew how to take care of people.”

“Kind of like you two will be taking care of me?” Darcy asked, watching Bucky’s eyes light with a smile.

“Yeah. Kind of like that.”

“She came through Ellis Island,” Steve continued when he was sure his voice wouldn’t waver, ”with just nineteen dollars and a suitcase. She met my father here, then got married. Had me within a year. After dad passed, she had to work double to make ends meet. I was over at Bucky’s a lot. Between Ma and Winifred Barnes, we were pretty well taken care of.”

Immeasurably happy that they were willing to tell her stories of things that were hard, proud they cared enough to indulge her, Darcy smiled warmly at both of them. “And with two moms, I assume it was hard for you to get into trouble?”

“We made time for trouble,” Bucky confessed, a smirk brightening his expression.

“You mean _you_ made time for trouble,” Steve argued.

The look Bucky shot the blond was one of disbelief. “You got into _way_ more scraps than I did, punk.”

“ _Not_ true.”

“ _Yes_ true,” Bucky said with a look that made it clear he wasn’t swallowing the bullshit Steve was attempting to shovel as fact. “How make times did I have to bail you out of a fight?”

“I woulda been fine.”

Darcy’s grin widened at the accept that seemed to pop into Steve’s voice when he talking about growing up in Brooklyn. Bucky’s was more pronounced on a normal basis, but Steve’s tended to effect him most when he let himself tumble into the past. It was adorable, though Darcy would never tell him so; if she did, she worried he’d pay more attention and it would go away. Darcy didn’t want it to.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Rogers,” Bucky said with a shake of his head.

“Buck, the cops knew you by name!”

“Because I’m charming.”

“Because you’re _trouble_.”

While she enjoyed the back and forth between the two men (perhaps more than she should), Darcy stopped their words with a hand held in the air. She could practically feel the heat of their eyes on her skin when they looked her direction. “Boys, boys, can’t we just get along?”

The roll of Bucky’s eyes was heartfelt. “Says the woman who loves arguing with us.”

“Because it’s _fun_ ,” Darcy countered, falling right back into the same conversation she’d been trying to draw them out of.

“Because you’re _annoying_ ,” Steve said, laughing softly when Darcy shot him a mildly offended expression.

“Oi! I’m an invalid! You have to be nice to me!” She attempted to poke Steve in the ribs, but he caught her foot before she could, pulling it into his lap. She squirmed against the pillows when he turned his strong hands to the task of massaging the arch of her foot, concentration on his face. 

“If you think you’re going to pull a fast one on us, Darcy Lewis, you’ve got another thing coming,” Steve breathed, eyes flicking up to look at her, a weight to his gaze.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Bucky echoed Steve, assurance and certainty in the grey of his eyes.

“As if I could slip away from you guys,” Darcy said with a shake of her head, trying to ignore the flash of warmth in her chest at their expressions and words, “but if I _did_ -”

“- you won’t -”

“- I wouldn’t go far. Promise.”

“The doctor said you could rip your stitches if you move too quickly,” Steve said with a frown, not enjoying the glint in her hazel gaze.

Darcy waved a dismissive hand through the air. “They _always_ say that, but I’ve got stitches on the outside _and_ the inside, so I’ll be fine.”

Bucky snorted softly. “Had a lot of stitches?” When she didn’t answer, her looked up to find her giving him a sheepish grimace. “What?”

Letting out a sigh, Darcy avoided his gaze. “...one time, at my Aunt’s, I _might_ have accidentally fallen through her porch.”

“How the hell do you _accidentally_ fall through a porch?”

“She was having work done on it, and I was only eleven, so I figured I was small enough that it’d be fine. It wasn’t. Then I wasn’t.”

“Where’d you have to get stitches?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she answered Steve, snorting softly at the look that crossed his face. “My hip. Tore a three inch gash when I landed on a toolbox. Saw cut right into me.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.” When she just shook her head, Bucky ran a hand over his face, wondering if he and Steve would be enough to keep her from devising some new, ingenious way to hurt herself.

“I’m fine now. Besides, the worst part was the tetanus shot. And the bed rest.”

Resignation seemed to course through Bucky, joined with a healthy dose of exasperation. “So you’re telling us you don’t know when to quit.”

The grin that lit Steve’s face was bright. “Something we have in common,” he said, smile brightening when Darcy’s matched his own, earning a groan of exasperation from the man at their sides.

Steve looked up at the numbers as they climbed, the hum of the elevator quiet enough that he was left with his own thoughts. Since Darcy had come out of her surgery, he and Bucky had been spending the majority of their time in her room, keeping her busy and entertaining her as best they could. She’d demanded, however, that they stop ignoring their own schedules and take breaks. Between the two of them, as well as Jane and Thor, he knew she’d been supplied with a steady stream of visitors. At first he’d been afraid she wouldn’t get enough rest, but it appeared she was recovering quicker than they’d expected.

Of course, this only led to her getting more anxious to leave, as she thought she’d been ready to go days prior, despite the doctors telling her she needed to give herself time to heal, or she’d just end up back in the medical ward anyway. When she’d continued to insist he get some time outside of her room, Steve had relented, telling Sam he would be available to hit the gym that day. As he made his way toward Bucky and their rooms, a shower definitely being needed, he recalled the conversation he’d had with Sam.

_”Sorry I wasn’t here, man,” Sam grunted, glancing over at Steve._

_Steve dipped his shin in Sam’s direction, lifting the dumbbells with his right arm, then his left. “Sam, you were where you needed to be.”_

_Though he didn’t look like he accepted Steve’s words, Sam lowered his body into a squat against the wall and held it. “Still no clue who was behind it?”_

_A frown found its way to Steve’s face, and his expression darkened with frustration. “No. We looked over the footage but there was nothing. If they were able to get past Tony’s security, then it means they knew the system pretty well. They got in, turned off the cameras, planted the devices, got out, turned the cameras back on, then detonated.”_

_Sam sounded a low whistle, shaking his head. “I’m glad more people weren’t hurt.” He watched Steve nod in his peripheral vision, the steady motion of Steve lifting and lowering his weights somehow a calming gesture. After straightening from the wall, Sam took a seat on a bench and grabbed a kettle bell. “So. Lewis isn’t really a Lewis.”_

_“Yes she is,” Steve said, eyes flicking back toward his workout partner._

_“Okay, yeah, you’re right, but she’s also a Stark.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Tony really had no idea? And neither did she?” At the shake of Steve’s head, Sam followed suit, another low whistle filling the air. “Damn. That’s cold.”_

_With a huff of air, Steve placed the weight he’d been using back on the rack, coming to stand next to Sam, lifting the hem of his shirt and using it to wipe his brow. “Howard...” Just saying the man’s name brought memories to the front of Steve’s mind. He’d considered Howard a friend, someone who’d been instrumental in helping him_ become _Captain America. As it’d always been, it was hard to reconcile the man he’d known with the absent father Tony had grown up with. “...he didn’t always make the best decisions.”_

_Sam snorted with laughter, dark eyes sliding to Steve’s. “Seems like that might be an understatement.”_

_Unable to argue with his friend, Steve nodded. “They seem to be taking it pretty well.”_

_“That’s surprising. Stark’s had to deal with a lot of surprises lately.” When Steve looked over at him, a smirk lifted Sam’s lips. “I wasn’t talking about you and Barnes.”_

_Hearing Bucky’s name just reminded Steve of the day Darcy finally woke, and the almost desperate need Bucky had to unburden himself of the knowledge that still festered inside at the memories of what he’d done under HYDRA’s control. Steve had assumed, wrongly, that it would take time for Bucky to build up to the reveal, but it appeared Bucky was doing a lot of things since he’d started his therapy sessions. It gave Steve hope that things for his best friend were turning around. “Bucky told her.”_

_Sam’s movements stopped. “Told her what?”_

_“That he killed Howard.”_

_Setting his weight on the mat, Sam sat on the bench, their workout momentarily forgotten. “Can’t imagine that was an easy conversation. I assume she took that information well, too?”_

_“Why would you say that?”_

_“Seems like she’s pretty unflappable. Knows Thor, faced a few apocalypses, finds out she’s a Stark... I’m going to have to meet her one of these days.”_

_Steve smiled, trying to imagine how well Darcy and Sam would get along, only slightly frightened by the prospect. “Well, feel free to swing by our room for the next week. We’re taking care of her while Dr. Foster is gone at a conference.” When there was no reaction from the man at his side, Steve glanced in Sam’s direction and found his friend giving him a look. “What?”_

_“I don’t know,” Sam hummed, a soft grin on his face, “you think that’s the best idea?”_

_“Why?”_

_“ _You_ might not be ready, but there’s some definite vibes going on between you three. Being in such close quarters might just ramp up the tension.” When Steve didn’t appear to take his words seriously, Sam held up his hands in surrender. “Sexual tension has a way of exploding, that’s all I’m saying.”_

_Steve climbed to his feet again, his limbs nearly cracking with energy at the thoughts Sam put into his head. “We’re just making sure she doesn’t hurt herself anymore.”_

_“Don’t forget to avoid getting hurt, too.”_

_“We can handle it.” It was clear his words did very little to satisfy Sam, but Steve pushed those doubts aside. “We’d do the same for you.”_

_An expression of distaste landed on Sam’s face as he laid back on the bench and accepted the bar that Steve held out for him. “Nurse Bucky? No thank you. I’d rather lose a limb.” For a split second, Steve let the bar drop a few inches, making Sam’s eyes widen and his hands fly up to catch it. When Sam saw the self-satisfied glint in Steve’s eyes, his face darkened. “Not funny, man. Very not funny.”_

Stepping into the space he and Bucky shared, Steve’s eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t see his best friend. He heard a noise, though, and made his way toward it, gaze shifting more toward uncertainty when he discovered Bucky on the kitchen floor. The other man was sitting in the space in front of the refrigerator, wearing only a pair of grey boxer briefs, two distinct piles on either side of him. His arm was working hard, scrubbing at the glass shelves inside, and he never once glanced up as Steve came to stand beside him. “Buck? What’re doing?”

Pulled from his inner turmoil, Bucky glanced up at Steve. Since Darcy’s surgery, neither of the men had shaved, deciding to keep the beards they’d grown at her bedside. The facial hair did wonderful things for Steve, somehow making the man even more attractive. Grey eyes ticked down to Steve’s biceps as they strained against the t-shirt he wore, his mouth growing dry at the sight. When he realized he’d been staring, distracted by anything that would keep him from drowning, Bucky turned back to the fridge. “Just cleaning out the fridge.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter, watching as Bucky returned to his task. “You know, I’m sure the cleaning staff –“

Bucky snorted, glancing over at Steve quickly, then forcing his eyes to slide back. “We haven’t had cleaning staff in this room since the day we moved in.”

This was entirely new knowledge to Steve, and he frowned as he looked down at his best friend. “What? How has everything been clean?” Bucky shot him a look that was dripping with obliviousness, and realization hit Steve like a train. “You’ve been doing it this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t seem important,” Bucky said as he scrubbed, one shoulder lifting and dropping. “I didn’t want a stranger in our place, and I don’t mind doing it. It gives me time to think.” It was one of the things that he’d found comforting after he’d left Steve on the banks after the hellicarriers had been destroyed. The small apartment he’d had was sparse, but he’d done what he could to make it feel more, to make it feel like a _home_. His mental state hadn’t been perfect, but cleaning was at least _one_ that that seemed normal.

Feeling like an idiot for not realizing it sooner, Steve cast an uncertain expression toward the man on the floor. “And what have you been thinking about while cleaning the fridge.”

“Darcy.”

There was so much behind the way that Bucky had said her name, and Steve couldn’t help but feel the first stirrings of nervousness in his belly. He knew Bucky had been dealing with a lot when it came to what had happened, and a lot of the things he’d done over the past week filled Steve with surprise. Bucky’s hand had been forced by Zemo and the knowledge of what had happened on December 16. 1991, and it had blown up in Steve’s face in spectacular fashion. As it always did, the memories of what had happened filled him with guilt.

He knew he should have told Tony what had happened the second Steve had discovered it; so many things would have gone better if he’d just tried to _speak_ with the engineer instead enacting a failed veil of protection. He hadn’t been protecting Tony. He knew that now. In reality, he’d kept something monumental from someone he’d considered family, and it had rippled outward in a tsunami of errors. All the pretty words in the world wouldn’t undo what he’d done, but he was trying to say his apologies and make amends where he could. But Bucky...

Bucky had told Darcy what’d happened to Howard after she’d only been awake a few minutes. Steve’d expected it to take longer, assuming that his best friend would need to gather strength to reveal it, but it appeared he’d been giving Bucky too little credit. He was incredibly proud of the mental health journey Bucky had made over the past few months, and he knew that Darcy’d played an extremely large part in that healing. “Anything in particular you’re thinking about?”

“We need to run to the grocery store, grab things she’ll like. Comfort foods. I already washed the sheets on my bed. We’ll have to take her to her room at some point to grab clothes. We’ll pack a bag. Toiletries. Stuff like that.”

“Okay,” Steve hummed, watching Bucky’s arm move over and over the same spot, attempting to get at something that’d adhered itself to the glass. There was a tension in Bucky’s body, and Steve got the distinct impression he was building up to something.

“Zeke’ll be over Wednesday night,” Bucky continued, not glancing up at Steve as he grew quiet, his hands moving less surely, a frown turning his lips.

Still surprised at the fact that Bucky had reached out to Darcy’s boyfriend, wondering when Bucky had found the time to track down Zeke while also standing guard at Darcy’s bedside, Steve watched Bucky’s expression, seeing it darken again. “I hadn’t realized you’d reached out to him.”

Bucky shrugged a shoulder. “When we didn’t hear from him after everything happened, I figured he should know.”

“That’s pretty big of you,” Steve hummed.

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t _nothing_. I know you weren’t exactly thrilled when –“

“I’m in love with her, Steve.” Bucky watched Steve go still in his peripheral vision, hearing the soft exhale of air at his words. Bucky focused on his scrubbing, pressing harder. “I tried. I tried not to be. I tried to stop myself, but it didn’t matter.” He took a second to glance up at Steve, seeing the other man’s parted lips and the increased wideness of his eyes, before turning his attention back to the fridge. “She reminds me of you so fucking much. The thought of losing her is terrifying, I know that now. If being with Zeke makes her happy, then that’s all that matters. I just want her to be happy. I won’t lose her because I can’t keep my own feelings in check.”

For the second (third?) time since he’d returned to their rooms, surprise rocked through Steve’s chest. There was a level of honesty in Bucky’s words that made Steve’s heart ache on behalf of his best friend, but underneath that all was _weariness_. Weariness of the fight, weariness of trying to hold something back and failing, a weariness of _resignation_. The path that Bucky and Darcy had started walking had always been headed toward _something_ , and though he’d tried to prepare himself for when Bucky finally accepted what he already knew to be the truth, it still struck Steve with a punch of empathy.

The way Bucky was speaking made Steve believe that he’d already spoken about this revelation to someone, and he had a good idea who. “You talked to Eric about this?” At the mention of his therapist’s name, Bucky nodded. “But I didn’t see you –“

“I didn’t go see him, not with Darcy still injured. We’ve been talking over the phone.”

“Oh,” Steve said, trying to remember a time when Bucky had left the room to make a call. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky said with a shake of his head. 

Leaning back against the counter again, Steve looked down at Bucky as he cleaned, finally able to see the barely-veiled tremors that were shaking Bucky’s hands when they weren’t in motion. He didn’t understand how Bucky could appear so calm when it seemed like he was filled with even more turmoil than ever. He trusted Bucky’s therapist, actually liking the man as a person and as a professional, but he had to wonder what the therapist’s knowledge had suggested. “What did he say?”

Bucky’s hand stilled, remembering the first phone call he’d made to Eric while Steve had ducked out for a quick shower.

_Darcy’s eyelashes rested on her cheeks as she slept, an unnatural stillness in her body thanks to the sedative the doctors were pumping through her IV. The shocks that’d been made to her heart would be painful, and keeping her still and healing was being done in an effort to speed her recovery. She’d ache when she woke up, but it was a small price to pay. Bucky’s eyes traced over the sweep of her lower lip, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the paleness in her cheeks. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” he whispered into the phone pressed to his ear, feeling incredibly vulnerable at admitting such things aloud._

_“_ That’s the fear _,” Eric said on the other line, his voice just as calm and warm as he was in person._

_Bucky sighed, running a tired hand over his face. “There’s a lot of it,” he replied, left hand falling uselessly to his lap. He knew Darcy was getting the best care, but until she woke up and he saw those hazel eyes, Bucky wouldn’t find rest or relief._

_“_ You almost lost someone important to you. Fear is normal. _”_

_Eric’s words did little to help the sea of uncertainty, rolling and crashing in Bucky’s chest, and he swallowed hard, letting the breath he’d been holding huff outward. “She’s so fragile.”_

_“_ She’s human _.”_

_“I’m not.” Bucky could practically hear Eric’s frown over the line._

_“_ Bucky. Yes you are. What they did didn’t make you less human. They tried to burn it out, but they couldn’t. You wouldn’t feel the guilt or fear if you weren’t as human as Darcy or me. _”_

_“I’m worried I’m putting too much importance on her. If something happens –“_

_“_ Everyone puts importance on people. Sometimes it’s healthy, other times it’s not. Have you neglected any other duties while you’ve been watching over her _?”_

_“Since the attack, she’s it. She’s my only duty.”_

_“_ The fact that you called me to talk shows how far you’ve come, Bucky. Answer me this: are you really worried about her, or worried about getting hurt because you care about her so much? _”_

 _Bucky opened his mouth to respond immediately, to say that it was just_ her _he was worried about, but he stopped himself before the words came out. Eric’s question made him consider his answer harder, to scrutinize the emotion that kept getting stuck in his throat. Seeing Darcy on that table, her body failing and her heart beat slowing, had filled Bucky’s veins with ice. He’d gotten so used to being surrounded by people who could hold their own in a fight that seeing someone get that close to death was terrifying. He knew his feelings toward Darcy went a long way to filling him with fear, but it was more than that._

 _Since the morning he’d first laid eyes on her in that elevator - dark hair flying as she twirled, garbled music sounding from the devices in her ears, laughter bubbling around the interior of the car – Bucky had felt drawn to Darcy Lewis like a magnet. She’d somehow gotten behind his walls, building something despite his hesitations, and what she’d done for him during the power outage still lifted the hairs up and down his arms. He’d been so vulnerable, so fragile, much like she’d been on that table, and_ she’d _been the shock to his system, forcing his heart back  
into its normal rhythm._

 _His heart had never, and_ would _never, be the same._

_“Both,” Bucky finally answered, a hint of exasperation in his tone._

_“_ Good answer _,” came Eric’s reply. When the silence had stretched for a beat, the therapist’s warm voice sounded from the phone. “_ You’re doing just fine, Sergeant Barnes _.”_

_Eric’s assurances didn’t do much for Bucky, but he let the comment drop. He didn’t feel like he was doing just fine, but he wasn’t going to try to tell Eric he was wrong. The man had done so much for Bucky in such a short amount of time, and the soldier felt immeasurably in debt to the therapist. “Sorry I didn’t make it yesterday.”_

_“_ It’s okay. You called. A lot of people don’t. You just got a therapy gold star. _”_

_“Am I supposed to say thank you to that?” Bucky asked, the ghost of a smile landing on his lips for the first time of the day. He could hear friendly affection in the other man’s tone._

_“_ Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you next week, but if you need to call me, I’ll be here. _”_

_“Do you say that to call your patients?”_

_“_ Only the ones I like.” __

_“I’ll see you next week.”_

“He said I’m doing okay,” Bucky finally answered Steve, the memory of the phone call being pushed to the back of his brain along with everything else.

When Bucky continued to clean, obviously needing something for his hands to do, Steve couldn’t help the frown on his face. He was glad that Eric seemed to reinforce the good work Bucky was doing, but Steve couldn’t help but worry that maybe having Darcy stay with them would be a bridge too far for the former soldier. “Are you sure taking care of her is the best idea?”

Steve’s question forced Bucky’s eyes up, searching his best friend’s face for anything that would account for the look in his gaze. “She needs us, Steve.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “And you need her, too.”

Feeling like there were so many things to be guilty about, _always and always_ more guilt, Bucky looked down. He traced the path of a water droplet as it slipped between the plates on his left hand, reminding himself that he needed to call Shuri and report on how everything was doing. Heowed so much to so many people. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s tongue clicked in his mouth and he moved to the floor, pushing half-finished milk jugs and bottles of expired condiments to the side so he could sit beside Bucky. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, reaching out to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder, feeling the tension in the other man’s muscles.

Bucky let out a sigh. “I was the one telling _you_ to go out and find someone.”

“I know, but it’s okay, Bucky. I’m not angry. I’m just worried that having her here, now that you’re sure how you feel, will be like torture.”

The look Bucky shot Steve was filled with dark knowledge. “I know torture, Steve. This isn’t torture.”

“Having something in front of you that you want but can’t have? Sounds like torture to me.”

Bucky sighed again, running his waterlogged, wrinkled fingers over his face. “I’ll survive.”

A voice in the back of Steve’s mind asked the question ‘ _will you?_ ’

Then, quieter, came another question.

‘ _Will I?_ ’

Not ready to answer his _own_ question, Steve pushed it aside and focused on Bucky. “I’m proud of you.”

The look Bucky gave him was tinted with incredulousness. “Why?”

“Do you really think you’d be taking this as well as you would have a few months ago?”

“Steve, I’m in my boxers cleaning out a fridge because my anxiety is off the charts, I just told the love of my life that I love someone else, and the other person that I love is with someone else. This isn’t me doing well. This is me fracturing.”

“Less than six months ago, you would have bottled this up and said nothing, and it would have eaten you from the inside. This is what growth and progress look like.”

“Progress looks like a mess.”

“Sometimes it is,” Steve hummed. Though he knew it would take more than a few pretty words from him to calm Bucky’s anxiety, Steve did his best to exude comfort and empathy, wanting his lover to know he wasn’t alone, and that he had nothing to apologize for. “Everything’s going to be alright, Bucky.”

Bucky wanted to believe Steve, and Eric, and the other voices that told him he was approaching this entire situation in a healthier way than he would have previously, but it didn’t really deaden the parts inside of him that still quaked with fear, and guilt, and disbelief that Darcy’d already forgiven him for his past sins. “I know,” he breathed, picking up his discarded sponge and scooting forward toward the fridge again.

It seemed like there was some kind of finality in the conversation, and Steve was more than willing to let the topic fade until a better time. He wanted to make sure that Bucky knew he understood, that he _got_ it, that he wasn’t angry that he’d fallen in love with Darcy, but he could see the tenuous grasp Bucky was clinging to, and couldn’t bring himself to press further. There’d be plenty of time to dissect the new developments, once Darcy was settled under their watchful eyes. “Do you want some help?”

“I’m almost done here,” Bucky answered with a shake of his head, “then we can go to the store. I told Darcy we’d be back for dinner.”

“Okay,” Steve said, clapping Bucky on the shoulder before he climbed to his feet. “I’m going to go shower.”

Bucky pointed the sponge up at him. “Don’t mess up the bathroom. I cleaned it right before this.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together. “She won’t _be_ in our bathroom, though.”

A shrug lifted Bucky’s shoulders. “Just in case.”

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Steve started toward the bathroom, laughing when he felt a damp sponge hit the back of his neck. When he glanced back at Bucky, the other man was smiling, and it settled Steve’s stomach like nothing else could.

“You’ll need to keep your sutures clean. If anything starts oozing, or you notice an odor…”

Darcy’s eyes followed the movements of the doctor’s lips, but she couldn’t really hear what the man was saying. Her whole body was filled with worry. Worry and anxieties. Worried about Tony. Worried about Bucky. Worried that whoever had attacked the tower might hurt more people the next time. And next time it could be Jane, or Thor, or Zeke.

 _Zeke._ Just thinking about the engineer made her stomach clench in guilt. Darcy knew breaking off anything romantic with Zeke was for the best and absolutely the right call, but she still felt horrible. She went into the hope of a relationship with an open heart, but the truth of the matter was that her heart wasn’t _ready_ for someone else, not really. She didn’t want Zeke to become just another of her mistakes. He was a great guy, and he deserved better than what she would have been able to give him.

Eyes flicked from the doctor to the clock on the wall above the door, watching the red second hand make another circuit. In a little over twenty-four hours, she’d _finally_ be out of this place. She was pretty sure she’d never hated a room more than this one, and she was grateful that she’d soon be outside of its four sterile walls. Just one more day, and Bucky and Steve would be there, delivering her from this hell, and possibly into a new one.

Darcy didn’t know how she was going to survive. The soldiers had made it clear that they would be taking care of her, regardless of her assurances that she’d be fine, but the idea of being at their sides twenty-four-seven filled her with a different kind of anxiousness. Her thoughts flipped back to what she could remember from before the surgery, just before they’d put in her IV. Bucky had come in closer, his body hovering over hers, and _something_ in those grey eyes had made her mouth go dry.

It wasn’t just the closeness that’d sped her heart, but the fact that what she’d seen in his eyes had been _conflict_. He’d ended up pressing his lips to her forehead, but for the briefest of instants, she thought that maybe he’d close to distance between their lips, that maybe he’d been debating claiming her mouth with her own.

Which was stupid.

Because he’s _with_ Steve.

And they’re _happy_.

Darcy refused to do anything that could fracture the men’s relationship. After all the stories they’d shared, she _knew_ how much they’d gone through to be together. Not a single bone in her body was willing to let her own _horribly_ timed crushes ruin what they had, and what she’d built with them. She cared about them too damn much.

It didn’t matter if her heart sped at just the sight of them. Or the way her stomach flipped when they said something charming. Or the way that when they looked at each other it forced a blush into her cheeks, her mind imagining all the things that the two pretty, pretty men looked like pressed together. She lifted a hand and pressed it against her cheek, feeling the heat springing to them at just the _thoughts_ running through her head. Such gorgeous, bittersweet images it was hard to breathe around.

Besides, didn’t _everyone_ fall in love with their friends at one point or another? She’d had a crush on Thor in the beginning, too, but eventually she’d realized how perfect he and Jane were together, and now she couldn’t help but feel like he was another sibling, a brother she hadn’t known she needed until he’d arrived. Now he was one of her best friends and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. A brother.

Seemed like they were coming out of the woodwork.

“... but it is very important you take things easy, Ms. Lewis. Obviously going under anesthesia is not a good thing for you, so minimizing the risks…”

Like her mind often did since she’d woken in the hospital room, Darcy’s mind tracked back to her mother, and the information that’d been thrown at her less than a week prior. It still seemed like some kind of horrible reality show, and she was waiting for someone to come out and say the entire thing had been a prank of some kind. Absently, her fingers ran back and forth over the incision on her lower stomach, proof that she _hadn’t_ been punked, but it still seemed untrue.

Jane had reasoned that her mother must have had her reasons for having an affair with Howard, but something about the whole thing still made Darcy shift uncomfortably. She didn’t like thinking that Abigail Lewis had flaws, but what child did? Moms and Dads were supposed to be heroes, right? So how was she supposed to accept that her mother _knew_ Howard was married with a child, and had _still_ carried on a relationship with the man? She didn’t want to judge her mother, but part of her couldn’t help it.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed impossible to understand. And thanks to the way their lives had gone, she’d never get the chance to ask her mother anything. It was all second hand stories and assumptions, and it weighed on Darcy that she’d never know the truth. She’d never know why her mother crossed that line.

Thinking about it further, she couldn’t help but see a shade of that line drawn in the sand between herself and the two men she’d grown so close to, a line that she refused to cross. She’d never know the real reason behind her mother’s action, but Darcy knew that it wasn’t an option for her. Bucky and Steve were Bucky _and_ Steve, and it would break her to know she’d ruined something irreplaceable. She wouldn’t be strong enough to come back from a blow that devastating.

“Are you sure you’ll remember all that?”

Darcy was pulled out of her thoughts when the doctor asked her a question. She looked up at him with widening, self-assured confidence in her gaze. “Of course. You’ve laid it pretty bare, and this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ll be super chill. Just some light reading, reality tv shows, and clean incisions. That’s always been my motto, anyway.”

It was clear the doctor didn’t really believe her, but he gave her a nod of his head before climbing to his feet. “I’ll send you home with fresh bandages. You might need help changing them -”

“I’ve got help,” Darcy said with a dismissive wave of her hand, thinking about the watchful eyes she’d be under. She had a sinking suspicion that staying with Bucky and Steve might be frustrating in more ways than one. “More help than I need, really. I’ll be good, doc.”

Again, it looked like the doctor didn’t really believe the words coming out of her mouth. Luckily, he didn’t see the point of an argument and let her answer slide. “I’ll stop in tomorrow before you leave, just to check in.”

As she watched the man and his white coat leave the room, Darcy laid back against the pillows with a sigh, running a hand over her face. She had barely moved all day, but she was _exhausted_. She had another couple hours before the nurse came in to get her vitals, and try as she might, Darcy’s eyelids felt like hundred-pound weights and the siren call of sleep was loud in her ears. She shifted into a more comfortable position, one that meant she wouldn’t wake up in pain, and tried to think past the heaviness of her thoughts. As her consciousness faded, her last thought stuck heavy in her mind.

_What am I getting myself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because you were late, doesn't make you a failure.  
> Just because it came easy to others doesn't mean you don't have the same power inside.  
> There's such a pull to measure ourselves next to others, but it's a futile attempt.  
> You're the only one in your situation, the only one walking in your shoes, and no one can know how many steps it took to get where you are.  
> All the struggles and sleepness nights.  
> All the hardships and clawing for every scrap.  
> It was _your_ hands that carried you into the light.  
> Never forget how strong you are, sometimes in spite of the push back.  
> You are _seen._  
>  You are _loved._  
>  You are _worthy_.


	36. A Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a chat with Natasha and finds out some distressing news. Darcy gets a visitor in the med wing. Bucky, Steve, and Tony make a plan of attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Happy Monday my darling loves!  
> I hope everyone is ready to attack the week like a spider monkey!  
> I'm posting this early because I have a funeral out of town to attend,  
> so there's no art, but I'll come back and add it in later.  
> I hope you enjoy!  
> <3  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

_Some days it's hard to see_  
_If I was a fool, or you, a thief_  
_Made it through the maze to find my one in a million_  
_Now you're just a page torn from the story I'm living_  


**Dynasty - Miia**

A flash of crimson at the edge of his vision turned Bucky’s head, and he watched as someone disappeared around a corner. Stuffing his phone in his pocket, he moved quickly down the hall, vindicated when he turned and saw the crimson shock of Natasha’s hair. He jogged until he was able to catch up to her, seeing her shoulders tighten when she realized someone was behind her. “What’s going on, Nat?”

Turning on her heel, Natasha’s green eyes seemed to flatten when they landed on Bucky, and she clutched the folder in her hands tighter. “Just heading to a meet –“

“That’s not what I mean,” Bucky said, his gaze darkening at her obvious deflection. He could see something in her gaze, a hesitance that seemed to shimmer in the air around her shoulders, like heat on asphalt. She might have been able to hide her inner thoughts from most people, but Bucky knew her better than that. _She_ knew he knew her better than that, too, which explained by was trying so hard to appear normal.

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s wrong.”

A delicate eyebrow raised at Bucky’s words. “There’s a lot wrong. Any idea who planted the bombs?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Bucky admonished, watching her eyes flash at the insinuation behind his frown, “I can tell you’re keeping something from me.” 

A soft snort of derision sounded from Natasha, and she shifted the folder from one arm to the other. “You think _I’m_ the one not telling the truth?”

This time it was Bucky’s turn to become defensive, and crossed his arms over his chest at how difficult she was making the conversation. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw what you were like in that surgical gallery, Bucky,” Natasha rasped, her eyebrow still raised as she regarded him. “You still going to tell me there’s nothing going on between you and Lewis?”

Though he knew she was simply attempting to redirect the conversation away from herself, Bucky couldn’t help the immediate desire to erase whatever she was implying. “Nothing _is_ going on between us.”

“But you _want_ it to,” Natasha argued, the stiffness in his neck and shoulders telling her everything she needed to know. Knowing each other as well as they did was a double-edged sword – they knew exactly what wounds to inflict to cause the most damage, like a roadmap of memories and half-finished thoughts that could be wielded as a weapon in the right hands. “Why are you holding yourself –“

This discussion was going much like it had with Steve. Bucky could admit his feelings aloud as many times as he wanted, but there was always a roadblock, an excuse that lived on his tongue. “She’s _with_ someone.”

“That doesn’t mean –“

“I killed her father, Nat,” Bucky said, successfully stopping Natasha’s flow of words. He could see the flash of empathy in her gaze, and though he wasn’t sure _why_ , it filled him with a restless anger. Anger at the truth. Anger at the situation. Anger at the fact that he would never be able to punish the people who’d ruined his life. They were gone, or dead, and there would never be justice.

“That’s not your fault.”

Bucky ran a tired hand over his face. In the few days since Darcy had woken, Bucky hadn’t gotten entirely restful sleep. He worried about every noise. Was this it? Was this the time? Was the person behind the bombing back to finish the job? All these anxieties ran parallel to the worry he had for Darcy’s physical health, which seemed to have become one of his only concerns. Steve had expressed worry that it might feel like torture having Darcy there with them, but even with the ache he felt when she smiled at him, she looked _happy_ , and that was all that mattered.

His shoulders lifted and dropped in a sigh. Over the past few days, it’d become glaringly clear that Darcy held no animosity, despite the knowledge he’d shared. He’d been trying really, _really_ hard to accept that the guilt he felt was one sided, that he’d all but been absolved in Darcy’s eyes, but it was more difficult to believe the words, even as they came from his own mouth. “I know. I know it’s not my fault. She said the same thing, but it doesn’t change the fact that her father’s blood is on my hands.” Something he said made the color drain from Natasha’s face, and he felt the first bite of uncertainty chase up and down his skin. “What is it?”

Natasha stood there motionless, face as flat as a mask, until Bucky reached out and touched her arm, pulling her from wherever she’d gone. She blinked as if she was coming up for air, like she’d been drowning only seconds before. “Andrei reached out to me.”

At the name, Bucky’s spine straightened, his features becoming shaper, and darker. He hadn’t heard the man’s name in a very long time, but his mind was thrown back. Gauze tutus. Pointe shoes. The blush of crimson and gun metal. He could almost smell the man’s heavy cologne, spicy and thick. “What did he want?”

“He thinks they’re starting again.”

“What?”

“The Red Room.”

Bucky shook his head, face falling into certain lines. His words were soft, as though afraid to speak too loudly and create the truth, simply by accepting it. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” Natasha asked, fingers pressed to her lips, feeling a fine, nearly imperceptible tremor shaking them. She saw the same denial she’d felt after the phone call in Bucky’s storm-gray gaze, and she could almost hear a bitter laugh in her ear, the one that said she would never truly be free from the horrors of her childhood.

“We’ve kept watch, if –“

“You know how they work,” Natasha said, her voice low and insistent. To anyone else, the fear that quaked within her would have been invisible, but she knew if anyone would be able to tell how terrified she was, it was Bucky. “They live in the shadows. Hydra was able to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. Do you really think it’d be hard for them? People are more secretive now than they ever were back then.”

The people who’d been instrumental in forming the Red Room were dead, lost to time and the forward march of progress. The Black Widow program had been shuttered, and its architects reassigned, and as far as Bucky knew, only one man had made it out the other side unscathed. Though he _knew_ what the answer would be, he asked Natasha the question anyway. “Who? Who’s heading it?”

“Ivan.”

The name had fallen from Natasha’s lips like any other, but the way her eyes flashed and her lips pursed was enough to tell Bucky what her state of mind was like. He reached out to grab her hand, refusing to back down when she tried to jerk away, holding fast as he took a step closer to her, almost able to smell the fear in the air around Natasha. “This is not your fault, Natasha.”

It was like his words had fallen on deaf ears. It took another squeeze of his hand to pull Natasha to the surface again, like she’d begun falling and only his grip kept her grounded. “He’s going to do what he did to me to someone else,” Natasha growled, a thread of anger joining the fear that shook her tone. “I can’t let him do that.”

“How are you planning on stopping him?”

“I have to kill him.”

It wasn’t the first time that Natasha’s practicality struck Bucky, but this instance was different. _Ivan_ was different. He knew things couldn’t be as simply as her words made them seem. It wasn’t that he didn’t know if she’d be able to handle the murder aspect, it was everything that came with it. “I know who he is,” he said, watching her eyes flick up to his, “I know who he is to you.”

Something crossed Natasha’s face, some ghost of a shadow, and she tried to take a step back from the only man that’d known her as a child, who’d trained her, who’d protected her. She could feel the strength in his hands, his refusal to let go of her. The weight in her gaze was too heavy to carry alone, but she was going to try. “I don’t know –“

“Yes you do.” Vindication flooded Bucky’s chest when the pretense fell away from Natasha’s eyes. For the briefest of instants, his vision was colored by a memory, of a much younger Natasha keeping time with her toes as Bucky flew across the floor, a flurry of spins and glissers, pliers and entendres. She’d smiled as he finished, her hands clapping as he returned to her side. Her face hadn’t held the guard or mask it did now, still believing that her training was simple, and not something more sinister.

When they’d placed her under his tutelage, it’d all been an act. Bucky’d been wiped and given a new identity. He’d been, in essence, loaned out to the KGB for use in the Red Room. A quid-pro-quo with Hydra that would see both of their causes moved forward. He’d done his best to protect Natasha when he saw something different in her, some part of his own personality shining through the conditioning and seeing the horror for what it was.

When he’d gotten too deep, when his handlers thought he was growing too attached, he’d been yanked from the program and replaced. He hadn’t been enough to save her, and the men who’d trained her after him were not as kind. More guilt he felt, though he knew now it’d been out of his control, just like everything else. “It’s okay if you –“

“It doesn’t matter,” Natasha said with a shake of her head, glancing up at Bucky with eyes that were close to drowning. “It doesn’t matter that Ivan Petrovich is my father. I can’t let him hurt someone else like he hurt me.”

Bucky had only learned about Natasha’s father through back channels. As he’d been trying to gather the scattered pieces of glass that were his memories, Bucky had broken into several Red Room safe houses, places that’d give the agents a safe shelter to hide in case of an emergency. Files had revealed that Ivan Petrovich was not only the biggest proponent of the Black Widow program, he’d conscripted his own daughter to become one of the beautiful but deadly assassins. This was knowledge Ivan hadn’t given her, though, more than happy to ignore the relationship if it meant forging a stronger weapon.

Those same files had been in the info dump that Natasha had instigated when the hellicarriers were being destroyed, meaning she’d found out about her parentage the same time as everyone else. It was information that’d been buried so deep that it’d taken a terrorist attack to bring it to light, and it was obvious Natasha had been holding the turmoil of emotions inside for quite some time. Bucky’s chest ached for her. “I won’t let you do this alone, Nat. I’ll go with you.”

Natasha’s lips lifted softly, and she dipped her chin in his direction, her voice adopting more rasp. It was deflection, falling back on her soft amusement in a desire to steal the gut punch from her words. “You don’t want to be in the field any longer.”

“This is different,” Bucky said, feeling ice behind his lungs as he considered what they were talking about. “This is personal.”

The dark look in Bucky’s eyes told Natasha that, while he was just as terrified of the specter of the Red Room, he was willing to push his own fears aside to assist her in doing what needed to be done. She wasn’t sure to be grateful, or guilty. Maybe both. In any case, the copper-haired assassin wasn’t sure she’d survive it going alone. She let out a sigh, blinking emerald eyes at him. “You’re a good man, James Barnes.”

“Better now than I was back then.”

The hallway was empty, but Natasha was so knocked by everything that it wouldn’t have mattered. She squeezed Bucky’s hand. “You were the only bright thing I remember. You gave me the strength to get through it.”

Bucky thought she was giving him too much credit. She was a survivor, one of the most ruthless hunters he’d ever met, and he’d long questioned how much he’d trained her, and just how much _she’d_ trained _him_. “Little good it did,” he said with a frown. “They made me forget everything about you.”

“You remembered,” Natasha said with a slight twitch of her lips. “Just took you a little bit.”

He could tell she was pulling those walls in tightly around herself, a shield against the truth of what they were talking about. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to find out the man who’d gifted you to be tortured, brainwashed, and used also happened to be the man who’d brought you into the world in the first place. “We’re going to stop him, Nat. He won’t get away with it this time.”

Natasha’s fingers shook as she gripped Bucky’s hand, shaking her head, the crimson braid she’d woven in her hair sliding over her shoulders with the motion. “This is why. _This_ is why.”

Bucky felt like the conversation had taken a turn, and he wasn’t sure what Natasha was referring to. “Why what?”

Natasha let go of his hand, fingers lifting to her lips again as she tried to temper the growing horror she could feel beating behind her sternum. “I can’t bring this to the house, not with the kids.”

“Nata –“

“It’s only a matter of time before someone discovers the farm. It’ll put them all in danger.”

“That farm is a fortress,” Bucky said, though he only knew this from what she’d told him, as well as what Steve could remember. “Fury kept it safe. Even with Hydra and Pierce, they didn’t discover it. They’re safe.”

“For now,” Natasha breathed, her eyes clouded as she thought of all the horrible scenarios, every blood-coated nightmare that filled her veins with ice and her heart with terror. “We’ve gotten lucky. I can’t take that risk.”

“Life is a risk. We take them every day.” It was clear by her distracted nod that she wasn’t interested in pretty words and reassurances. There would be no talking her out of her mission, and if Bucky was being honest, he felt just as bound. If what Andrei had told Natasha was true, there was no possible future that could include Ivan Petrovich. He wasn’t certain what life would like like on the other side of this, but their hands had been forced. If he could help Natasha, get rid of the threat, if they could just stop this before it all started, maybe _then_ the ballerina-turned-spy could breathe a sigh of relief and accept the family that was there waiting for her.

He wouldn’t know until it was done.

“I’ll let you know when Andrei gives me what we need.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He waited until Natasha had disappeared from sight before his shoulders sagged. Bucky felt the conversation itself had taken years from his life. The thought of going back to Russia, of hunting down some of the monsters in his nightmares, was terrifying. He’d meant what he’d said to Steve all those months ago in Wakanda. He didn’t _want_ to be a tool of war any longer. After everything that had happened, after all the pain he’d been put through, the idea of picking up a gun again seemed impossible.

But it was _Natasha_. He _owed_ her. And if he could help destroy some of her demons, then he would. Despite his fear. Despite the uncertainty. She deserved that much. No one else would be destroyed like the Red Room had destroyed Natasha, not if he could help stop it.

Fighting against the veil of sleep that still clung to her skin, Darcy’s eyes opened and she frowned at the white tiles of the ceiling. She hissed and shifted to her back. At some point in her slumber she’d turned onto her side to sleep, and the angle compressed her skin and caused pain at her incision site. “ _Ow._ ”

“You should probably try to stay on your back. If you prop up a few pillows on either side, it should help keep you from turning.”

Surprised at the stranger’s voice, Darcy’s eyes flicked toward the chair near the window. She recognized the man from the news, but she’d never met him herself. His blue uniform was pressed and crisp, and the arrangement of colored pins and medals on his chest caught her attention before her gaze traveled to his face. 

The expression in his dark eyes was one of quiet regard, and she felt the distinct desire to squirm under the weight of it. “Hi.” When the man simply nodded at her, his attention unwavering, her lips turned down at the corners. “Were you watching me sleep?”

James Rhodes lifted the phone from his lap and held it where she could see. “I was checking my email.”

“Oh,” Darcy hummed, eyes catching on the wings pinned above his heart. She recognized him now, but it did little to explain what he was doing in her hospital room. “Did Tony send you in to give Happy a break from guard duty?”

“He left to get lunch. I was in the area, so I offered.”

“Ah.” Scratching at the itch on the back of her hand where her IV was, Darcy pushed the blanket from her legs, body feeling too warm after her nap. She was almost getting used to waking up to find people looking after her, and she was doing her best not to get annoyed at the constant babysitters. She knew Tony had his reasons (she’d have the scar to prove it), but it still grated her nerves regardless. “How’s he doing?”

“Pepper’s not letting him out of her sight.”

“That’s good.” When the silence in the room stretched on, Darcy couldn’t help the way she shifted against the mattress. When things had been quiet over the last few days, she’d read what she could about both Tony _and_ Howard, trying to learn more about the men and their histories. Tony had been right; a lot of the stories about Howard Stark weren’t exactly glowing, and she’d ended up with more questions than answers.

She’d read about Tony’s friendship with James Rhodes, and quite a bit about his military career, but it was something else entirely to have him sitting there in front of her, his gaze steady on her as if she’d be revealing a magic trick or something. Darcy felt like she was being scrutinized, and her skin itched under his gaze. “Something I can do for you, Colonel?”

Rhodey stood, grabbing the chair he’d been sitting in and placing it closer to the bed. He retook his seat, smoothing his cap on his thigh before returning to his quiet consideration. He waited until a look of uncertainty crossed her face before he cleared his throat. “It’s been difficult, but there will be no mention of you and your connection to Tony in the official record.”

Darcy hadn’t been aware there’d _be_ an ‘official record’ of what had happened, so his assurance left her frowning. “I didn’t think what happened here fell under the government’s purview.”

“Everything’s under the government’s purview,” Rhodey said with a sigh, running a hand over his face. It hadn’t been easy, but for the woman’s own safety, things had needed to shake a certain way. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to use his authority to help clean things up, but after everything that happened, it was the least he could do for his best friend. “As long as the info doesn’t leak, you should be able to keep your anonymity.”

“That’s a relief,” Darcy said, a look of gratefulness crossing her face. She knew a lot of people who _yearned_ for the fame being a Stark would bring, but that’d never been what _she_ wanted. It seemed she shared that sentiment with her mother. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for you.” Rhodey watched a frown turn her lips again, and he let out a small huff of laughter, looking down at the floor. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Things have been a bit tense recently.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Stranger suddenly pops into Tony’s life, turns out she’s his sister. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Seems you’ve got a pretty good handle on things.”

“Thanks. It’s all a facade,” she confided, watching a smile curl his mouth.

The sarcasm she wielded was familiar, and Rhodey took a long second to look at her, attempting to suss out her reasons for doing what she’d done, as if all the answers would be there in her gaze. His hands smoothed his cap again as his brain turned over everything. “You’re not the first person that claimed to be related to him.”

“Uh, I didn’t _claim_ -”

“No,” Rhodey said, “I know how it went down. I just meant that he’s dealt with this situation before.”

“I figured as much,” Darcy said with a sigh. “I imagined there were quite a few people who wanted to ‘Anastasia’ their way into his life to get to the money.”

“The price of the Stark name.”

“Tony said it was heavy.” The slow nod of Rhodey’s head, and the first-hand knowledge in his eyes, made it clear he’d seen more than his fair share of false petitions. “You’ve known him a long time, right?”

Rhodey glanced up at her, watching as she settled back against the pillows. “Since ‘84.”

“How’d you meet?” 

Another laugh rumbled through Rhodey’s chest. He hadn’t exactly expected to tell Darcy about how he’d come to be at Tony’s side for over thirty years, but there’d been a swath of things he hadn’t expected, and yet here he was. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m being held hostage here until tomorrow,” Darcy said, doing her best to keep the annoyance at the medical wing from her voice. “I’ve got time.”

Giving her a long stare, Rhodey finally shrugged a shoulder. He had a few hours before he was expected back in D.C., and he could think of worse ways to pass the time. “He was my freshman roommate at M.I.T.”

Darcy’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “He stayed in the _dorms_?!”

Rhodey nodded, a spark lighting his eyes as he remembered that first day. It’d been the first and last time he’d ever spoken to Howard Stark. Any other dealings that required a guardian had been attended to by Jarvis, until he, too, passed. Blinking past the memories, Rhodey’s dark eyes flicked back up to Darcy. “Howard said it’d give him a chance to really experience college.”

“... but wasn’t he just a kid?”

“He was a snot nosed fourteen-year-old who thought he was god’s gift to humanity.”

Darcy snorted, trying to reconcile the person Tony was _now_ with the image of him as he was _then_. Offhandedly she wondered if he’d had braces, if he’d been afraid to be far from home, or if he’d looked at college as a way to _escape_ his home. There was really no telling. “Oh. Good,” she said after a second, “glad to see nothing’s changed.”

“He wasn’t that bad, except when he was. And when he was?” Rhodey shook his head, wistful annoyance coloring his expression. “Howard basically dumped him in my lap, told me he knew I’d look after him, that I’d make sure he kept his nose clean. It wasn’t my _job_ to look after someone else, let alone a tiny, over-privileged, entitled, spoiled asshole whose father’s legacy was even bigger than the kid’s ego.”

Rhodes was speaking with warm honesty, the way only those who’d been friends for years could. He didn’t mince words, laying the truth bare, and it was something Darcy could appreciate. She hoped Jane would speak so fondly of her to other people. “But you warmed up?”

“Eventually. It took a bit, but covering his ass became second nature. Difficult as all hell, but familiar. When he gets into something, I can usually bail him out.” Rhodey’s gaze swung back to Darcy. “This time I couldn’t.”

“But _I_ could,” Darcy said, finishing his thought.

“Yeah,” Rhodey said with a nod, “and you did.”

A sinking suspicion formed in Darcy’s mind, and it forced her lips into a frown. “If this is you saying ‘thank you’ -”

“It’s not,” Rhodey said, his voice losing some of its friendliness. “This is a warning.”

Darcy’s frown deepened at his expression. Where there’d been friendliness before, now there was the quietness of a soldier, confident and unflinching. If she hadn’t seen shades of it in both Bucky and Steve, it might have frightened her. “Oh.”

“Tony’s difficult. Annoying. Frustrating. Self sacrificing. Emotionally fragile.” 

“Jeez, man,” Darcy breathed, shaking her head, “I hope all my friends talk about me like you talk about him.”

“I know exactly who that man is,” Rhodey said with confidence, experience and certainty, “but I don’t know _you_. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”

“Oh, I have absolutely _no_ idea what I’m in for,” Darcy said, lifting and dropping her shoulders in a shrug. “I mean, I can assume, but it’d just be a guess. Somewhere around the second apocalypse we dealt with, I realized that planning too far ahead is useless. Shit happens and throws everything out the window, and you just have to deal with it as it comes.”

Rhodey raised an eyebrow at her. “Kind of like finding out you’re the secret love child of an extramarital affair?”

Darcy blinked her heavily wide eyes at the military man. He was an enigma, wrapped in a puzzle, and she found herself very interested in how James Rhodes worked. He seemed straight laced, but kind, and it was in stark contrast (she laughed in her own head) to the man she knew Tony to be. “Wow. You really don’t pull your punches, do you?”

“I’m not known for it, no.”

As he continued to look at her, a light bulb went off in Darcy’s head. She laid back against the pillows again, feeling like solid ground was under her again. “ _Oooohhh_. I get it. You’re not really here to warn me.” At his look, she waved a hand through the air toward him. “I figured _someone_ would be coming in here to give me the shovel speech at some point. I figured it’d be Pepper.”

“What the hell is a shovel speech?”

“You know,” Darcy said with another hand gesture, “the ‘ _if you hurt him, I’ll hurt you_ ’ speech. Like you said, you don’t know me, so you want to make sure that if I do anything to Tony, I know I’ll have you to answer to.”

“That’s not what this is.” At her look of disbelief, Rhodey sat forward in the chair. “Tony can take care of himself.” When Darcy just raised an eyebrow at him, he lifted a shoulder. “Most of the time.”

“But not this time.”

“No.”

“So this _is_ a thank you?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Darcy hummed, unable to keep the tint of laughter from her tone. She tried to imagine being in his shoes, but realized she _knew_ what he was feeling. She felt that same surge of protectiveness when she thought about Jane. And Selvig. Thor. Bucky. Steve. All people she cared for, all people she’d physically fight to keep safe, should it come down to it. She barely knew how to throw a punch, but if it meant saving her people, then she would. “Tony’s lucky to have people like you in his corner.”

The room fell quiet for a beat, both of them looking at the other like they understood each other a little better. After another second, Rhodey sat back in his chair, a small smile curling his lips. “If you _do_ hurt him,” he started, watching her hazel eyes flick back toward him, “it won’t be _me_ you’ll have to answer to. It’d be Pepper.” When some of the color drained from Darcy’s face, his grin widened. “That’s an appropriate response.”

Darcy winced, pressing her palm to her cheek as they burned with imagination. Just watching a movie in the same _room_ as Pepper Potts had been like some kind of dream, and Darcy wasn’t sure what she’d do if she got _yelled at_ by the brilliant business woman and CEO. “She’s kind of my idol.”

“Tony’s too.”

“I don’t, though.”

“Don’t what?”

“Plan to hurt him,” Darcy answered, the ‘him’ she referred to plain. She could tell Rhodey was deciding how hard to push, but she wanted to have that fact be clear between them. James Rhodes seemed to be a large person in Tony’s life, and not one single part of Darcy wanted to be on this man’s bad side. “It seems like enough people have done that already.”

“Including Howard,” Rhodey agreed, satisfied that she was telling the truth, “ _especially_ Howard.”

“Then it’s time to break the cycle.” Darcy didn’t feel guilty about how her childhood had been better than Tony’s, but she _did_ feel like they’d been given a second chance to make things better, to build something from the ashes of their parent’s mistakes. “I don’t want to hurt Tony. I don’t want to hurt _any_ one.”

“I’ve heard that about you.”

Darcy frowned. “Heard from who?”

“I did my research.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who’d you talk to?” Darcy thought of the people who knew her, _really_ knew her, and she couldn’t accept that someone who would talked about her to what was, essentially, a complete stranger. For some reason, it didn’t sit right in her stomach.

“Believe it or not, S.H.I.E.L.D. has pretty extensive files on you and Dr. Foster.”

His answer did little to help calm the annoyance that flashed into her chest, and Darcy’s breath huffed out. She hadn’t always had the best relationship with S.H.I.E.L.D., especially after she discovered they were not above stealing electronic devices they deemed as ‘evidence’, and the idea that they had a whole _file_ on her and Jane just filled her with useless heat. “And that file told you I’m a loyal friend?”

“It said you have the trust of a god.”

“A god _king_ ,” Darcy corrected, some of her annoyance fading at the mention of the large blond.

“Either way. If the big man vouches for you, it goes a long way.”

A warm grin turned Darcy’s lips. The day Thor had entered her life was the day everything had changed for her. “He’s a good guy.” Rhodey didn’t seem to have a comment to hers, so a silence - new, but comfortable - fell between the pair. As her brain turned over their conversation, Darcy found herself wanting to know more from the man. She had an entire lifetime of knowledge to learn about her half-sibling, and she was sure the man in front of her had his fair share of stories. “What was Tony like as a kid?”

“He was a holy terror,” Rhodey answered without hesitation, affection in his voice despite his words.

Darcy wiggled her fingers in his direction. “Come on. Give me something good.”

“Have you ever seen the movie ‘ _Real Genius_ ’?”

Her eyes widened with surprise and delight. “Uh, _yes_! It was like that?”

“It was based on Tony.”

Darcy’s jaw dropped. “ _WHAT?!_ ”

A small, self-satisfied grin curled onto Rhodey’s lips. “Not really.”

Some of the joy faded from Darcy’s eyes. “Oh.”

“A movie based on Tony would need to be rated NC-17.”

Interest repiqued, Darcy sat up a little straighter. “Tell me _everything_.”

Tony wiped his face on the napkin then threw it on the table, leaning back in his chair. He hadn’t had much of an appetite after waking up from his surgery, but it’d come back with a vengeance, and he wasn’t above turning the meeting with Steve and Bucky into a working lunch. “By the way,” he said, reaching for his drink, “I added Lewis to the biometric lock on your rooms.”

Nodding, Steve leaned forward on the table, eyes steady on Tony while he ate. “Did you do the same for us in her room?”

“No.”

Bucky frowned. “Why not?”

Gaze swinging toward Bucky, Tony’s eyes flashed with defiance. “Because she didn’t _ask_ me to.”

“But if we’re –“

“Nope,” Tony argued with a shake of his head, not a lick of guilt in the brown of his eyes. “If she asks? Sure. But until then? Nuh-uh.” He kept his gaze steady on Steve and Bucky, almost expecting them to fight him. Surprisingly, it appeared they weren’t in the mood to buck back, and Tony took it for the win it was. When neither man continued, Tony found himself shifting in his chair, the ridiculousness of the situation like static on his skin. Doing what he often did in uncomfortable silences, he rushed on to fill the quiet. “Foster reiterated that you’re going to have a hard time keeping Lewis busy. We’re going to need to make a schedule, make sure she doesn’t have any time to get in trouble.”

Steve lifted his hand, running his fingers through his hair before scratching at the facial hair covering his chin. “What kind of trouble can she really get up to?” When he saw Bucky’s attention swing to him, an incredulous expression on the other man’s face, Steve couldn’t help the twitch of his lips and the lifting of one shoulder. “Fine, alright. You know her best.”

“Does he?” Tony asked Steve, before deciding he didn’t want to have this conversation through an intermediary, and turning toward the darker soldier himself. “Do you? How did you even meet her?”

Able to pick out the heavy suspicion in Tony’s words, Bucky took a deep breath in, then let it out silently. He’d been expecting this conversation to happen at some point, actually surprised it hadn’t been brought up before. Since the moment in the hallway outside of Darcy’s room, when Tony had patted his arm as he passed, Bucky’d been on pins and needles, unsure exactly what the engineer had been thanking him for. Saving Darcy? Not dying? Keeping her safe? That one movement and it’d filled him with questions, questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to actually ask. “The elevator,” he finally said.

“Ah,” Tony said with a nod then shake of his head. “That thing’s a gift that keeps on giving, isn’t it?”

Deciding to change the tone of the conversation, Bucky flipped to a new sheet of paper, the one he’d already formatted as a calendar, trying to be as prepared as possible for the meeting. When Tony had asked him and Steve to stop by so they could make plans, he’d taken the task seriously. It was about Darcy’s health, after all, and Bucky was willing to do anything to keep her safe. “It’s going to be bad. She needs to be busy, or she’ll start to go insane. She’s not good without work.” A snort from Tony tugged a frown onto Bucky’s face. “What?”

“Just remembering something Lewis said,” Tony said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “about not wanting the money Peg squirreled away from her. For someone who loves work, technically she doesn’t have to. Or she _wouldn’t_ , if she wanted to keep it.”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together at Tony’s words. “What do you mean?”

“She told me she doesn’t want the money, that she wants to donate it. Oh! That reminds me.” Tony reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small slip of paper before sliding it across the table toward Steve. “Mazel tov.”

The frown on Steve’s face only deepened as he pulled the paper toward him. He unfolded it, eyebrows raising toward his hairline at the amount of zeroes on the check. “Peg saved this much for her?”

“Well, I matched what she had. Seemed kind of poetic that the Starks would be the one funding things. In any case, you’ve got enough to get things rolling now. Find a space. Hire staff. That kind of thing.”

Gaze flicking back down toward the check, Steve tried to imagine what this would mean, how many people this could help, and found himself at a loss. He wasn’t sure _what_ to say. The fact that Tony had already begun referring to Darcy as a Stark (though he continued to use her mother’s surname for the woman), wouldn’t have gone unnoticed if the soldier wasn’t still rolling from the shock of the check. “Does she know this is where it went?”

“No. She didn’t care. Figured it was the right move.” When Steve opened his mouth again, Tony had a feeling it was to say thank you, and as he didn’t want it to become this giant thing, he spoke before Steve could finish his thought. “Anyway. Schedules. I’ll take a few shifts.”

“Don’t call them that,” Bucky said with a frown. “She’s going to feel like she’s being baby-sat.”

Tony raised a dark eyebrow. “Isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, imagining Darcy’s face if she found out what they were planning, “but we don’t want her to know that.”

“So it’s the three of us,” Tony said with a gesture through the air. “That shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Us and Zeke,” Bucky corrected.

Tony’s eyebrow lifted anew. “Taylor?”

Bucky nodded. “He wanted to come over for a night or two.”

“Wow,” Tony breathed. “Didn’t expect that.”

Steve sat back in his chair. “Why?”

“Didn’t she tell you? They broke up.”

Bucky’s gaze slid to Steve’s, watching his best friend’s eyes flash with the same shock that was rumbling through his own chest. In the days and hours they’d spent at her side since she’d woken, she’d made no mention of her break-up with the engineer. He knew Steve had thought something was up when Zeke left the hospital room, and he could only assume that their break-up had been the catalyst.

“When?” Steve asked, knowing he was asking for himself _and_ Bucky.

“The day she woke up,” Tony said, debating how much information he should give them. “I think she might have broken his heart, poor kid.”

It only took a glance in Bucky’s direction to see the confusion clouding the man’s storm-grey gaze. Darcy had broken up with Zeke almost a week ago, but she hadn’t said anything about it to them. It wasn’t like they’d talked about the ins and outs of her relationship with the engineer, but ending their relationship seemed like a detail she might have wanted to discuss. The fact that she hadn’t made him feel like she wasn’t ready yet. He’d never really had to break up with someone (the pseudo relationship he’d had with Sharon had never really started, and other than the conversation they’d had in his office a few weeks prior, it hadn’t needed discussing at all) so he couldn’t be sure.

“She’s a good person,” Steve finally said, giving Tony a soft smile. The billionaire was looking back and forth between him and Bucky, no doubt trying to figure out what was going on in their heads, but Steve pushed past the probing glances. “She’s already talking about wanting to go outside.”

“Fine,” Tony said with a shrug of his shoulders, “then we take her out for a few minutes. Nowhere big. Just to give her a taste of fresh air.”

“The café.” Bucky tried not to squirm when Tony’s eyes flicked back toward him. “She likes getting coffee in the morning before work.”

“Yeah, so people tell me.” Tony sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he chewed on his handful of granola. “In fact, the manager told me that you’re both there with her almost every morning.”

“We talk,” Bucky answered.

“About what?” When Bucky leveled a blank expression in his direction, Tony held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, whatever, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here.” 

“We are,” Steve assured him.

“Good.” Silence fell over the trio again, and this time it only took a second before a snort sounded from Tony and he shook his head from side to side.

Steve frowned at the look of quiet amusement on Tony’s face. “What?”

Tony wiped his hands on a napkin. “It’s just funny how things work out.”

“What do you mean?”

At Steve’s follow-up question, Tony shrugged his shoulders again. “A year ago you guys were still in Wakanda. Now you’re best friends with my long lost little sister. That doesn’t smack you as odd?”

Steve considered Tony’s question. If you’d asked him a year ago where he thought he’d be... living under the same roof, and trying to figure out his feelings for Tony’s little sister while Bucky did the same, was _not_ something he’d have guessed. “We’ve seen a lot of odd by now.”

Unable to argue with the sentiment, Tony nodded. “I guess so.” He passed his napkin over his lips then his hands, before throwing it and the rest of his meal in the trash. He climbed to his feet, fingers popping anxiously as he stood. “Okay. Friday morning. We take her for coffee, let her taste non-sterile air, and go from there.”

“We meet at 5:30,” Bucky offered, watching Tony’s eyes narrow in his direction.

“In the morning?”

“... yeah.”

“Make it eight.” If the other men’s looks in his direction caused him any anxiety, it didn’t show, and he kept his straight gaze on them. “What? She needs her rest. Let her sleep in a little. I’ll meet you there.”

Steve’s eyes followed Tony as he left the room, letting out the breath he’d been holding. He was reluctant to say it out loud, but ever since Tony had come out of surgery and discovered the details of what had happened, it appeared he’d been giving Bucky more breathing room. The fact that Bucky was close to his newly discovered sibling probably had a lot to do with it, but Steve liked to believe Tony had been honest about wanting to work _together_ to make things better. The lack of animosity in the engineer’s eyes when he looked at Bucky had come as a shock at first, but Steve had learned long ago that trying to anticipate how Tony Stark would react to things was a lesson in futility.

Turning his attention to the only other person in the room, Steve lifted an eyebrow in Bucky’s direction. “She broke up with Zeke.”

“But she didn’t say anything,” Bucky replied, uncertainty in his tone. He wasn’t sure why the fact she hadn’t said anything filled him with doubt, but he felt his heart beating with it behind his ribs. He’d told Natasha that one of the reasons that he hadn’t done anything about his feelings for Darcy was because she was _with_ someone, and that he wanted to respect her decisions. _Now_ , though, he had to wonder what excuse he’d come up with next, what excuse he’d give for the fear that filled him when he thought of losing her. He didn’t want to push her into something she didn’t want…

... and finding out she didn’t want _him_ would be worse.

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to talk about it. It just happened, and it was probably pretty difficult. You know how she doesn’t like disappointing people.” In fact, that fear of disappointment and outrageous empathy was one of the things that had first struck Steve after meeting her. Whether it was a super soldier in a bar who needed rescuing, or taking care of a stranger in the middle of a panic attack, Darcy didn’t know how to keep her compassion from oozing out in her every action.

Bucky nodded at Steve’s words, hoping they were the truth. His eyes slid up toward the clock, marking the time. “We can go get her now.”

When Bucky looked over at him, Steve smiled. “Let’s go spring her, then.” Bucky’s smile grew to match his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be kind to yourself.  
> Give yourself room to make mistakes.  
> Don't let one problem derail your entire day.  
> Take a deep breath.  
> Close those eyes.  
> Feel your pulse slow.  
> You _got_ this!  
> 


	37. Guiding Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, Steve, and Bucky navigate the new waters they find themselves living in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> We did it! We beat another Monday! *\o/*  
> I'm fighting off a cold because of the arctic blasts, but a runny nose isn't going to stop me from updating!  
> I hope your November has gotten off on the right foot, but if not, there's always tomorrow!  
> <3<3<3  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

_Relate to my youth_  
_Well I'm still in awe of you_  
_Discover some new truth_  
_That was always wrapped around you_  
_But don't just slip away_  
_In the night_  
_Don't just hurl_  
_Your words from on high_  
_Well I know I had it all on the line_  
_But don't just sit with folded hands and become blind_  
_'Cause even when there is no star in sight_  
_You'll always be my only guiding light_  


**Guiding Light - Mumford & Sons**

Darcy’s hazel eyes darted back and forth, looking between the doctors, Steve, and Bucky. She could feel anxiety in her limbs, her leg jumping up and down as they went over her aftercare for the billionth time. Bucky and Steve were approaching it much differently than she had (hearing them and nodding but not really listening), asking questions and for clarification when it was necessary. Normally such careful attention from the men would have made her go weak in the knees, which was why she was glad they refused to let her walk and insisted on wheeling her out themselves. The fact that they were so worried and focused on her care would have filled her with a singing affection, but she’d been cooped up for the past week and all she could think about was that she could finally go _home_.

Finally, _finally_ , they passed the threshold of the medical area and left it behind, a bag of stuff and her meds resting on her lap as Bucky pushed her wheelchair down the hallway. They turned a corner and an elevator came into view. It wasn’t _the_ elevator, the one that had become a heap of metal and debris at the bottom of the shaft, but they’d be in that one soon enough. Darcy shifted in her seat, trying not to let her heart race like it wanted.

Bucky felt a change flow up Darcy’s body, glancing down to see her shoulders tighten and her fingers spasm around the bag in her lap. He followed her line of sight, realizing she was looking toward the bank of elevators with trepidation. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, watching her glance up at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Darcy breathed, knowing better than to lie to Bucky. The man had an uncanny ability to tell when she wasn’t being truthful, or wasn’t telling the _entire_ truth, anyway. “I just realized we’d be going back in an elevator.”

“We could take the stairs,” Bucky offered.

Darcy’s eyes narrowed and she looked up at Bucky with a glare, slightly annoyed when he just smiled at her. “You going to carry me the whole way?”

“If I had to.” When she rolled her eyes and looked back at the elevators, Bucky looked over at Steve with a grin, watching his best friend’s lips purse as they entered the elevator that would take them to the main floor so they could get on the express elevator to the Avenger-rated levels.

“We worked with Happy,” Steve said, trying to give Darcy something that would help calm her nerves. “The locks on the elevator shafts aren’t electronic anymore. You need an actual physical key to get into the shafts. And we hid cameras throughout, but they’re not hooked into the system. Tony’s the only one who knows where the server and backups are. They won’t be able to remote in.”

The information drop spoke to how seriously they were taking everything, and if the soldiers didn’t appear to be concerned that it could happen again, then Darcy supposed that was good enough for her, too. “I guess that’s good.”

When they exited the first elevator and started toward the second, Bucky eased them to a stop, bending so he could place his head next to Darcy’s, letting her see his face. “If you don’t want to use it –”

“No,” Darcy said before sighing and running a hand over her chest, the ache from her near-death experience on the operating table still pressing on her ribs. It was sweet of Bucky to offer her fear an escape, but letting that fear guide her decisions would be like letting the bastard who’d attacked their home win, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to let whoever it was throw anymore chaos into her life. “Did you know coconuts kill more people annually than elevators?”

Steve couldn’t help the small laugh that shook his shoulders. “How do you have this useless information?”

“Sure, yeah, it’s useless right up until you have to use an coconut to kill an enemy. You’ve never killed with a coconut?”

Lips curling, Steve shook his head as the doors dinged open for them. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Good, because if you had and neglected to tell me so, I’d be pretty fucking upset.”

As they pushed into the elevator that would take them upstairs, Bucky shared a look with Steve over Darcy’s head, his grey eyes bright. He’d known that Darcy was anxious to be freed from her medical prison, but he could practically feel her vibrating in her seat. In an effort to settle her as much as he was able, Bucky moved around the wheelchair so she could see him. “We stocked the fridge with things you like. We can stop by your room later and get anything else you need.”

Darcy frowned, still feeling guilty that they’d upended their lives to take care of her, _especially_ when she knew she’d be fine in a couple days. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”

“It wasn’t trouble,” Bucky assured her, getting used to the way Darcy downplayed when she needed help. He knew she was fiercely independent, and he was trying to mentally prepare himself for the struggles they’d have in the coming days. “Besides, we promised Janey.”

Looking up at Bucky, unable to help the lift of her lips at the easy way the name ‘Janey’ had slipped from his tongue, Darcy tried to take the comfort he was giving her. “So you’ve said.”

The rest of the elevator ride was spent in comfortable silence, though Steve had a feeling Darcy was dealing with more traumatic memories than she wanted to let on. Her hands were clutching the bag in her lap, knuckles gone white, and when he looked up at Bucky, he was unsurprised to find his best friend’s eyes looking down at the wheelchair-bound woman with a look of worry on his face. Steve had assumed that Bucky would be hyper vigilant when it came to Darcy – much like he’d been with him, back in Brooklyn, where any breeze could knock Steve flat – but he worried that the soldier would overextend himself.

Steve had been more than willing to watch over Darcy, accepting the role immediately and without hesitation, but while Bucky was only worried about Darcy, Steve had _two_ people’s health to think of; Darcy’s physical health, and Bucky’s mental health. Finding out that Bucky had been in contact with his therapist even if they hadn’t met in person was a huge weight off his shoulders, and not for the first time, Steve was incredibly proud of the progress Bucky had made in such a short amount of time. He just hoped that progress didn’t go to the wayside while he was caring for Darcy.

Though she felt ridiculous, Darcy let Bucky pushed her the rest of the way, the wheels squeaking as they moved. The door to their rooms looked exactly like the one to hers and Jane’s just one floor above, and when they pushed into the interior, the similarities between the two spaces only continued. She assumed all the rooms had been furnished, as the coach sitting before their windows was the same that was in hers upstairs, only Steve and Bucky’s couch was a dark, hunter green whereas hers and Jane’s was a robin’s egg blue. _I wonder if Tony picked the colors_ , she mused, lips turning up at the thought of Tony Stark being any kind of interior decorator. The man – _her brother_ – had style, but he’d never struck her as the type to care about furniture and accessories.

When Bucky hit the brake on the wheelchair, Darcy took the initiative and climbed to her feet, immeasurably grateful to be _anywhere but_ the medical ward, and the staff that came in for her vitals like clockwork, and who assured her the healing would go smoother if she took it easy and slowed down. Darcy, however, had never been good at sitting still. She’d only taken one step before Bucky and Steve were at her sides, holding her elbows and attempting to help her walk. She froze, glancing back and forth between them with a soft glare. “Boys, I can move by myself, I promise.”

Though her words were said with confidence, Bucky’s lips turned down at the corners. He’d listened intently to the doctor’s instructions, and one of those instructions had been for Darcy to move slowly. “Are you sure?”

Darcy resisted the urge to sigh heavily. “The doctors said my stitches are holding up just fine. You heard them. I’m allowed to walk places.”

The frown didn’t leave his face, but Bucky let his hands fall away, seeing Steve do the same on Darcy’s other side. He watched her drop her bag next to the couch, before making her way toward the windows and the bright light streaming through them. She circled the room, leaning in to look at the books lining a shelf, lilac-colored nails running across the spines. Since he and Steve had moved into the tower, decorating the room hadn’t seemed like a priority, and there were only hints at the life the two men lead; a pair of Steve’s shoes by the door, whose soles were nearly worn away from his marathon-length daily runs; a dish in the sink from the quick plate of eggs Bucky had made that morning before rushing to be at Darcy’s side when she woke up; a dog-earred novel that had been tossed onto the coffee table.

It wasn’t much, but home had never been a place to Bucky. It’d been a person.

And now it was _people._

Though she wanted to spend all her time analyzing the objects around the room, imagining they’d give her better insight into the men she’d grown so close to, Darcy figured she’d have plenty of time to explore their corner of the world. Turning back to them, she held her hands out to the sides. “So which one’s mine?”

Leaving Steve near the wheelchair, Bucky crossed the room and pushed open the door to his bedroom. The curtains were open, filling the room with light and the cold sunshine of spring. The room was incredibly clean, almost to the point that it didn’t look lived in at all. _Of course he doesn’t actually stay in here,_ Darcy reminded herself. He and Steve shared a room, and part of Darcy wondered if they’d _chosen_ a suite with two bedrooms, or if it’d been given to them. By Tony.

She turned away from Bucky as understanding lit her eyes and her face fell. With everything that’d been going on, she hadn’t put two and two together, and the weight of that knowledge hit her like a cheap shot from Mjolnir. She’d wondered about the rift that had been formed between the soldiers and her brother, assuming that it’d been because of the Accords and their strain on the group. While Tony had never been outright hostile toward Bucky in her presence, it was clear _something_ had gone down. Big enough that it’d caused a giant chasm in the group.

Darcy had asked Bucky if Tony knew what the Winter Soldier had done, and he’d confirmed it. Tony knew that Bucky had been the one to kill his parents. She couldn’t imagine that the information had gone over well with the engineer. Darcy wasn’t sure who her heart ached more for. Letting her breath out slowly, trying to push past the shock of her realization, her eyes jumped from the pile of extra blankets on the end of the bed to a colorful vase of flowers on the nightstand, lips lifting in a smile. “Do you always have fresh flowers for your guests?” she asked, glancing over at Bucky.

Bucky leaned his shoulder against the door jamb, crossing his arms over his chest as he shrugged. “Only for the ones who gave up their kidneys.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at him. “Have many?”

“You’re the first.”

“Lucky me,” she breathed, taking a heavy seat on the bed. Darcy reached out and grabbed one of the pillows, cradling it to her chest. When she looked up again, she found both men in the doorway, their eyes steady on her, the expressions on their faces unreadable. Not sure why, she felt nerves begin to bite up and down her arms, lifting her skin in goose pimples. She wasn’t sure why things felt different. _Besides, you know, the fact that **everything’s** changed._ “I think I might take a nap.”

Steve tracked the light in her eyes, noticing it was dimmer than normal. “You feeling okay?”

Darcy waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just wiped.”

“You need us to get you anything?”

Bucky’s offer was sweet, but Darcy could feel the energy draining from her body. She’d been so excited to get out of the medical wing that she’d seemingly exhausted whatever fuel she’d been holding inside. “No, I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“We’ll be right out there if you change your mind,” Steve assured her, jutting a thumb over his shoulder.

Nodding, Darcy hugged the pillow tighter. “When I wake up, we can go grab stuff from my room?”

“Whatever you want, doll,” Bucky said, watching her look up and give him a tired smile. Steve was the first to move, taking a step back out of the doorway. Bucky followed behind him, but slower, giving Darcy one last worried glance before pulling the door shut.

Once she was alone in the room, Darcy let her shoulders slump, wincing when she felt the tight pull of her incision and the stitches that were holding it closed. She’d go back in two weeks for a check up, but until then, she’d need to be careful. If she felt this exhausted after just an hour? She could tell it would be an uphill battle. Wondering what she’d gotten herself into, she ran a hand over her face before laying back on the bed and pulling one of the blankets over herself.

The second her head hit the pillow, she was out.

When Darcy opened her eyes in the dark, she felt her heart beat speed, lips parting. It took a few seconds for her to remember where she was, and that she was staying with Steve and Bucky, but when she did, she let a long breath outward, attempting to slow the _whoosh whoosh_ of her pulse in her ears. Turning her head to the side, she blinked at the red clock dial, surprised to find it was almost four a.m.. She’d woken from her nap for a quick dinner of pasta and garlic sauce, but had passed out in front of the couch while they’d been watching a movie.

She didn’t remember coming to bed, and had the distinct impression that she’d been carried into the bedroom by one of the boys. It didn’t surprise her, as she was sure lifting her was nothing to soldiers who could bench press a Buick, but she would have liked to remember something so awesome. Trying to figure out what had woken her, she shifted in the bed and got an immediate answer. She sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed, her full bladder protesting at the pressure. Climbing to her feet, she started toward the en suite when she noticed a dark figure in the doorway to her room, causing her to jump nearly a foot in the air. Bringing a hand to her chest, she glared daggers at the man. “ _Jesus!_ Fuck, you scared me.”

“Are you okay?”

Frowning, able to taste her heartbeat on her tongue, Darcy’s eyes flicked over Bucky’s shoulders, making sure Steve wasn’t there, too. Her gaze swung back to Bucky, doing her best not to openly stare at his naked chest, or the way his sleeping pants hung down on his lips, or how the scruff on his face made him somehow more attractive. “Were you waiting outside my room for any noise?”

“No,” Bucky said with a worried shake of his head. “I was in our room, but I’ve got good hearing.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

“I heard you get up.”

“I’m just going to pee.”

“I should help.”

A look of incredulousness crossed Darcy’s face at his words. “Help me _pee_?”

“The doctors said –“

“I can pee by myself, thank you very much,” Darcy said, defensiveness bleeding into her voice.

Jane had tried to warn him that Darcy was going to be a hard person to take care of, but Bucky had faced assassins and world ending attempts for most of his life. How hard was it going to be to take care of one person? He should have known better. Steve hadn’t been the greatest patient either growing up, pushing himself to the point of exhaustion and then dealing with the aftermath for days, if not weeks. He’d gotten rusty at being a nurse, but the watchfulness had returned incredibly quick. “Darcy –“

“ _Bucky_.”

He let out a sigh. “Jane said you were going to be like this.”

Eyes narrowing to slits, Darcy did her best to set him on fire with her gaze alone. “Be like _what_ , exactly?”

“Difficult.” The second the word left his mouth he regretted it, but it was too late now to take it back. Her hazel flashed with sharpness, and if it were any other situation, Bucky would have been struck by the life in them, but as it was, all he felt were knives in his skin.

“... did you seriously just call me difficult because I’d like to _pee_ by myself?”

“What if you get hurt?”

“Going to pee? Bucky, _come on_!”

When she took a step toward the door, Bucky took one as well, not wanting to give up any more ground. He knew this wasn’t any kind of offensive by any stretch of the word, but it felt like a battle all the same. “Darcy, my goal is to keep you safe. I’m not going to fail.”

“Your _goal_? Are you _kidding_ me?” Darcy reached out for the doorknob before realizing it was behind Bucky’s body. She looked up at him, eyes defiant. She knew he would never hurt her, or force her to do something she didn’t want to do, but at the moment, all he’d become was a blockade against her freedom. “Get out of the way.”

It hadn’t been his intention to make her angry, but it was very obvious that he’d succeeded at it all the same. “Darcy –“

“ _Bucky!_ ”

There was a stand-off, a battle of wills, but after a tense moment, Bucky ground his teeth and took a step to the side. She brushed by him, slamming the door harder than was necessary. She glanced at herself in the mirror, noting the bright splash of pink across her cheeks. She headed for the toilet then came to a stop. She pressed a hand over her mouth, then whispered, “are you still on the other side of the door, listening to everything I’m doing in here?” Though the voice was muffled, she made out a very clear ‘yes’ as an answer to her question. “ _God damn it, Barnes!_ ”

Steve appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, his eyes clear even though he’d been woken up by the sound of Darcy’s shout. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“ _I just want to pee!_ ” came from the woman on the other side of the door.

Bucky’s attention swung toward Steve, looking for some kind of help or validation. “The doctors said she might need help getting around.”

“ _You’re listening to me pee!_ ”

“I am _not_ ,” Bucky argued. “I’m just waiting here in case you need help.”

“ _Yeah, help **to pee**_!”

This time, when Bucky looked over at Steve, he was unamused to find that there was a grin on Steve’s lips, as well as a self-satisfied look in the blond’s eyes. Bucky threw a vulgar hand gesture at the other man, but it only seemed to make Steve’s grin grow by a hundred watts.

“ _I’m not going to be able to pee with you both out there!_ ”

Letting his breath out slowly, reminding himself that she was still hurt and that he’d _known_ how difficult this would be and had _still_ signed up for it, Bucky directed his eyes toward the ceiling. “What do you want us to do?”

“ _Let me pee in peace!_ ”

“Well I’m not leaving,” Bucky said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ _Then get a phone, play some music, do **something** , because my body is flat out refusing to cooperate since it knows you’re there._” Even though her voice was muffled, the annoyance in her tone was as clear as a bell.

Steve took a step closer to Bucky. “She might have a shy bladder.”

“ _Stop talking about my bladder_!”

Turning to Bucky, knowing he was taking this seriously, but feeling like there had to be a little wiggle room, Steve’s face sobered. “Bucky –“

“Steve, I’m not going to let her hurt herself because she’s too proud to ask for help.” Something he said seemed to stick in Steve’s mind, and the other man’s eyebrows raised as his eyes looked down at the floor. As if to say ‘ _Coming from you? Really?_ ’ “What?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, punk. You got something to say?”

“ _If you guys want to fight, could you do it somewhere else?!_ ”

“We’re not fighting,” Steve assured Darcy. When Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, Steve frowned. “We’re _not_. We’re just having a discussion.”

“ _A discussion won’t help me pee any faster!_ ”

Placing both hands on his hips, Bucky let out another sigh, blinking down at the carpet as he tried to devise a new angle to make Darcy see that he wasn’t trying to clip her wings (or listen to her pee), but that he was _worried_ for her. Worried she’d overdo it. Worried she’d slip and fall and rip open her stitches. Worried she’d catch a cold and get sick and not recover. It’d happened all the time when they were children; one night spent too long outside and within a week your body just shut down. It’d terrified him with Steve, and now it was terrifying him with her. He could breathe easier with Steve, now that he had the serum running through his veins, but it wasn’t the same for Darcy. The vision of her body jerking on the operating table sprang to his mind, unbidden and unwanted, and he felt his face grow darker with the vision.

He was rocked by utter shock, then, when he heard the low, baritone singing voice of the man at his side. Bucky’s gaze swing toward Steve, lips parting as his best friend began to sing.

_Seothó seothú ló_   
_Seothó seothú ló_   
_Seothú ló_   
_Seothú ló_

_Mo ghaol, mo ghrá 'gus m'eadúil thú_   
_Mo stoirín úr is m'fhéirín thú_   
_Mo mhacán álainn scéimheach thú_   
_Chan fiú mé féin bheith 'd dháil_   
_Alleluia…_

When the chorus began again, memories supplied Bucky with enough words so that he could join along with Steve, stumbling a bit but remembering more and more as they went along. It was there, buried in the back of his mind, Sarah Rogers’ voice floating on the air as she rubbed cream over Steve’s back, the blond boy’s ribs and spine jutting out beneath his skin, shoulders shaking as he trembled with fever.

_Seothó seothú ló_   
_Seothó seothú ló_   
_Seothú ló_   
_Seothú ló_   
_Seothú ló_

Darcy had been sitting on the closed toilet seat, elbow digging into her thigh as her chin rested in her palm, the very picture of a child pouting, when she’d heard the first words of the song slip through the cracks around the door. It’d made her freeze, trying to figure out what language Steve was singing, let alone _why_. Her surprise had become two-fold when she’d heard Bucky join in, the foreign words rolling off their tongues.

She climbed to her feet, slowly making her way toward the door. Only after they finished did she pull on the knob, the light from the bathroom casting shadows into the bedroom and illuminating their faces. “What was that?”

Feeling a blush coloring his cheeks, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive gesture he’d never been able to fight against. “Something Ma used to sing to me,” he answered. “It always made me feel better.”

“It was beautiful,” Darcy breathed, a look of open awe on her face. She’d dated a musician in college, right before she’d gotten the internship with Jane and Selvig, but this was miles above what he’d been able to pluck out on an acoustic guitar. There’d been a heft to the song, a gorgeous lilt that had almost sounded _right_ coming from Steve’s mouth, like he’d been hearing it all his life. “What does it mean?”

“Ma said it was about a fae woman who fell in love with a human. As punishment, the fae killed the man and banished the woman. She had a child, and she’d sing him the song of her people so he’d know that he was the bridge between two worlds.”

“Wow,” Darcy hummed, wishing her voice didn’t sound as affected as she felt. “Lullabies were a lot darker back in the day.” The smile Steve pointed her way nearly stole her knees, and she shifted from one foot to the other, wearing what she was certain was a goofy grin.

Bucky attempted to push past the lightning flash of desire he felt for them both, but it was a herculean task. He hadn’t heard Steve sing in what felt like ages. The man had always had a lovely voice, and part of Bucky was rooted to the spot, left wondering which god he had to thank for bringing them back together. There was something about the memories that made Bucky homesick for a place that wasn’t there any longer, but the more time he spent at Steve and Darcy’s sides, the more _him_ he felt. “You didn’t pee, did you?” Bucky asked, noticing her constant shifting back and forth.

Bucky’s question brought reality crashing back onto her shoulders, and Darcy was pulled from her stupor as she turned toward the dark-haired soldier with narrowed eyes. “ _Why_ are you so worried about –“

“I’m _not_ –“

“- feel like you’re obsessed –“

“- I don’t care one way or another about your bladder –“

Darcy opened her mouth to lob another question Bucky’s way when she noticed Steve had turned his back on them both and had started toward the door. Verbal battle briefly forgotten, she took a step forward, reaching out for his arm. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Her arm was warm on his, and Steve felt it heat him all the way to his bones. “Neither of you are going back to bed anytime soon. Figured I’d make us tea. It’s almost morning anyway.”

With Steve’s retreat, it seemed to sap whatever angry energy had begun to course through her veins, and Darcy turned tired eyes to Bucky. He looked just as tired, and she felt a wealth of shame and regret fill her person. She didn’t _mean_ to make things harder on the soldier, especially since he was just looking out for her health and safety. She _owed_ him so much, and looking at him standing there, the fight all but drained from her. “If I need you, I’ll scream real loud, okay? You heard me get up from the other room, so your hearing is good enough. You hear me scream, you can come running in, deal?”

“Deal.” Bucky’s fingers tightened around Darcy’s as they shook on it, holding eye contact and making it clear that he’d hold her to it. Thing decided, he left her there in the bathroom doorway and headed toward the kitchen and Steve.

Darcy turned, rubbing her thumb along her bottom lip, over and over, as the door fell closed. She’d taken a step toward the toilet before stopping. Again, she lifted a hand to cover her mouth, her voice nothing more than a whisper. “You can still hear me, can’t you?”

It took a second, but finally, a loud ‘yes’ sounded from the direction of the kitchen.

“ _Mother fucker!_ ”

The sounds of laughter filled the living room. _Young Frankenstein_ was playing on the TV, and as the creature and doctor sang while wearing tuxes with tails, Darcy’s eyes slid to her right, watching the black and white flash in Bucky’s eyes. She hadn’t been sure how he’d like the movie, but if the smile on his face told her anything, it was that she’d made a good choice. More laughter on her left stole her gaze, grin widening when she saw that Zeke and Steve were enjoying it just as much as Bucky was.

The last few days had been filled with movies, reality TV, and comfort food. True to their words, Bucky and Steve had devised an entire list of things they could do to keep her mind busy, just enough to forget that she was confined to the room for the near future. She’d meant what she said – she’d never been bored around Steve or Bucky, _ever_ – and though she’d been expecting the hours to crawl by, she’d been pleasantly surprised by the quickness of time passing. She wasn’t sure if it was her mind trying to speed things up, or the quality of the company, but somewhere along the line she’d started to forget she was supposed to be resting.

Dinner had been pizza from a shop down the street, and Darcy had listened with interest when Bucky and Steve began to argue about the best pizza in Brooklyn. She’d been surprised Zeke had given his own opinion on the matter, heart soaring when she saw the kind way Bucky and Steve reacted to him. Darcy was happy they got along; she knew Zeke didn’t have a lot of friends, and considering how good Steve and Bucky had treated her, she’d hoped that kindness would extend to her ex and friend. She’d been happily proven right.

As the credits began to roll, the soldiers set to the task of gathering their plates and glasses, giving Darcy a moment to walk Zeke to the door. She was moving slower than normal, her incision site nearly screaming with itchiness, but she did her best to ignore it. She pulled open the door, watching Zeke grab his stuff and cross the threshold. “Thanks for coming tonight, Zeke,” Darcy hummed, giving him a grin.

“Thanks for letting me hang out. I know you need to get your rest.”

Darcy waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “It’s okay, really. I’ve been sleeping on and off since I got here.”

“All the same,” Zeke said with a smile. He hesitated, appearing like he wanted to linger, before darting forward to press his lips to Darcy’s cheek.

Skin flaming, from both of the contact and the way she could feel Zeke holding back, Darcy gave him a faltering smile before he started down the hall, not running exactly, but steps far quicker than normal. Darcy pushed the door closed, resting her forehead against the wood and letting out a large, guilt-ridden sigh. It was obvious Zeke still hoped for something more, that perhaps Darcy would realize she’d made a mistake, but that wasn’t, and never would be, the case.

“You okay?”

Darcy turned to find both Steve and Bucky looking her direction, two different expressions of concern on their faces. Shoulders lifting and dropping, she padded across the carpet toward them, carefully sliding onto a stool at the island. “Yeah. It’s just hard.”

“Tony told us you broke up with Zeke,” Steve said, doing his best to keep his voice even. He wasn’t entirely sure why Darcy hadn’t spoken to them about the break-up herself, but the look of guilt in her eyes went a long way to explaining her actions. “You okay?”

Nodding, Darcy put her chin in her palm and blinked at the men. “It just wasn’t right,” she attempted to explain, though she knew she’d do a piss poor job. How was she supposed to explain that her heart was so hung up on _them_ that there wasn’t enough room for anyone else. Not yet, anyway. She needed to get her own emotions under control. It wasn’t fair to them _or_ herself.

“It’s okay to admit when things aren’t working.” He was trying to keep his voice comforting, but Steve found it hard to see anything but the conflict in her eyes. It was clear what she’d done was weighing on her, and he had to wonder if it was healthy to carry such responsibility when she was in the middle of healing. “And he seems to be pretty okay.”

Another sigh lifted Darcy’s shoulders, and she gave Steve a tired nod. “I know, I just wish I didn’t have to hurt him to do it.”

“Hurt him a little now to save him from more down the road.”

Bucky’s words had been soft, careful, and Darcy nodded. She knew that’s why she’d done what she’d done, but it didn’t really make her feel any better about the situation. “I don’t like disappointing people.”

Steve used a towel to dry the dish in his hands before putting it back in the cabinet, then reached out to squeeze her hand when his were empty. “It would have been a bigger disappointment for him to realize you weren’t in it as much as he was.”

Darcy smiled as his hand squeezed, then pulled it free to run fingers through her hair, trying to calm the anxious nerves that were fluttering in her belly. “These are all things I know.”

“But it still hurts.” Her nod of agreement forced a soft, embarrassed smile onto her face, and Steve returned it with as much warmth as he could, hoping to make her feel better.

“If the last few weeks have taught me anything, it’s that life’s too short to be somewhere you don’t belong,” Darcy said, hand absently rubbing along the fabric of her shirt, finger tracing the break in her skin.

Bucky pulled the stopper from the drain, letting the dirty, soapy water slip away. He turned to face Darcy and Steve, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. He seemed to think better of the stance, letting his hands fall heavy to his sides. “And where do you belong?”

“Here. With you.” The words had fallen from Darcy’s lips immediately and without hesitation. It was only after they’d landed that she realized how those three little words could have been taken. She managed to school her features from the shock that pinged through her body, finding that both Bucky and Steve were blinking at her, the look in their eyes unreadable. Darcy cleared her throat, trying to push past the blush of embarrassment. “I mean, here. In the tower. Helping Jane. Being your friend. Being as much of a sister as I can to Tony. I’ve never really believed in fate, but I can’t overlook how things have turned out.”

Steve’s breath had caught in his chest at Darcy’s words, feeling Bucky go still at his side, the kind of still that showed how thrown the soldier was at her seeming admission. When she rushed to explain herself, he felt air flow back into his lungs. “If it makes you feel better,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile as he leaned closer to her on the counter, “it seems like you’re going a pretty good job at all those things.”

Darcy returned Steve’s smile. “Just imagine what I’ll be able to get up to when I’m no longer a prisoner.”

The crash of noise in Bucky’s head was almost too loud to think around, his entire world narrowing down to Darcy and Steve, and the careful way they were talking. Her answer to his question had hit him like a truck, the look of self-awareness in the hazel of her eyes forcing a lump in his throat that was impossible to breathe around. She’d only been in their space for a few days, but he was already getting used to waking up and seeing her on the couch, or sharing meals with her in the tiny dining area. He knew he needed to prepare himself, that eventually she _would_ be going back to her own rooms, but part of him was relishing the closeness, even if tension stole his words more often than not. “You’re not a prisoner,” he finally said, lips in a frown as he blinked at her. When she looked up at him, an eyebrow raised, a different kind of emotion – this time _apprehension_ – tightened his shoulders, and he ran a tired hand over his face. “Are you telling us that you’re planning on some shenanigans when you’re not with us anymore?”

Ignoring how much she enjoyed the words ‘with us’ dripping from Bucky’s tongue (and she really, _really_ liked it), Darcy blinked faux innocent eyes in his direction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m _never_ up to shenanigans.”

Disbelief was heavy in Bucky’s tone. “Bullshit.”

His lack of tact never failed to make her smile. “Hey now. Would I lie to you?”

“I really hope not.” Bucky’d been unable to keep the soft plea from his words, catching and holding Darcy’s gaze. He was worried for her, yet he knew he needed to accept that she’d made her choice, and it wasn’t him or Steve. All he could hope was that their friendship would grow deeper over time, and that eventually the tension he felt between them would dissipate.

Feeling like there were oceans of unsaid words swirling in the air between Bucky and Darcy, Steve could barely breathe past the heaviness that seemed to have descended over the three of them. He cleared his throat, breaking whatever bubble that encased them. He’d been worried about Bucky being in such close quarters with Darcy, and though he could that it _was_ affecting his best friend, part of him kind of felt like it was affecting Darcy, too. _And me_ , the small voice inside of his head offered, though he just wasn’t ready to analyze his own feelings deeper, not when he was more worried about them. “Just think, come Friday you’ll get to taste the real world and fresh air again. I’m sure that’ll help you feel more settled.”

“Yeah,” Darcy hummed, too tired to give the conversation the thought it truly deserved. She clapped a hand over her mouth when it opened, a large yawn rippling through her body. She hummed with it, feeling her eyes begin to water behind her glasses. “I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Yell if you need anything.” Her only answer to Bucky’s comment was a wave of her hand before she disappeared in Bucky’s bedroom and pulled the door shut behind her. When he was certain she couldn’t hear him, he looked over to Steve with a frown. “You lied to her.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Zeke didn’t look good at all,” Bucky said, remembering the way the engineer’s eyes had strayed to Darcy when he thought no one was looking. There was a pain in his eyes that was very real, and the fact that Steve had said the opposite stuck in Bucky’s mind as odd. Steve wasn’t known for lying. Actually, he was known for the opposite.

“Can you blame him?” Steve asked, lowering his voice. “Besides, keeping that much guilt inside isn’t good for her.” He was quiet for a second before adding, “ _or_ you.”

“I’ll survive.”

Steve shook his head, tossing the damp towel into the counter. “Maybe just surviving isn’t enough anymore, Buck.”

** The song Steve sings translates to:  
 _(Oh you my kin, my love and my idol_  
My darling and my precious thing  
My beautiful little son  
With just myself to care for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe you're at work. Or on the bus. Or on the commute home.  
> Wherever you are, close your eyes and take a deep breath, then let it out.  
> Again.  
> Breathe in the promise of another day, the optimism that comes with the unknown.  
> Breathe out all the negativity, coating your skin like crude oil.  
> Breathe in the truth that you are _enough_ , that you are loved, and you are beautiful.  
> Breathe out the voice in the back of your head that says you're worthy.  
> You are. You are so amazing. Constellations and supernovas in those beautiful eyes.  
> <3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [The Tumbles](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) and [The Tweets](https://twitter.com/Goddessvicky)!


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